


no homo

by readingallaboutit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Homophobia, M/M, Reality, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readingallaboutit/pseuds/readingallaboutit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s gay. Louis’ the prick that calls himself his best mate – making his life a living hell by being the straightest piece of ass ever. </p><p>(“No homo”, says the heterosexual guy after blowing his male best friend.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Round 1

**Author's Note:**

> readingallaboutit.tumblr.com

He jerked awake, punching Louis in the face.

Harry’s palms were sweaty, his mind swimming in a pool of soggy emotions like old spaghetti.

“Ow.” Louis grumbled, groaned next to him and turned his body away from Harry’s, lazily shielding his head with one arm. “Don’t kill me.”

“Sorry.” Harry stared down at the mumbling head and pulled the covers up to his midriff, unwilling to look at his own skin. He patted the warm fabric slightly, flattening it against his legs.

Slowly he lay down again, protectively enwrapping his upper body only to have the duvet pulled off him again.

“Mine.” Louis muttered right into Harry’s ear and the younger guy rammed his elbow back, effectively hitting Louis’ ribs.

“Ugh, fuck everything.” Harry felt Louis roll away from him again and he slowed his breathing whilst Louis continued to loudly hiss and tiredly rub his chest.

“What’s wrong? Nightmare?” Louis sounded drugged and he made no move to get closer to Harry again.

“Not really, but yeah.” The words managed to slip through Harry’s tightly shut mouth and Louis hummed, squinting at Harry with one eye.

“You’re invited to elaborate, hm.” Harry almost flinched away from the finger poking his bicep.

“Was just a dream. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“Nah… Tell me.” Louis nudged Harry’s arm more strongly, pinching the muscles that Harry didn’t mean to flex.

“It was nothing.”

“Come on. I’ve got to take care of you.”

“Can’t you just go and sleep in your own house.” Harry growled as Louis started to pull at the skin of his elbow.

“No, I couldn’t. Little gay boys are so prone to having bad dreams.”

“Ugh, shut up.” With much wiggling Harry managed to free his arm from Louis’ abuse.

“Seriously though. Since you woke me up you might as well spill.”

“I’m fine.”

“What was it about?”

“Me.”

“And?”

“You.”

“Yeah?” Louis shifted and bumped his knee against Harry’s. The moon shone through the window, down on Louis’ face, framing him like some stupid Shakespearean character. Harry wasn’t about to say something that’d make Louis laugh at him only because a playwright who was long dead said romance was the essence of mankind’s existence or whatever.

“I dreamt that we were together, like in a relationship.”

“Ha!” Harry winced as Louis punched him low in the ribcage, hit his flying rib. “You totally want to have sex with me!”

All Harry could possibly do in that moment was sigh and roll his eyes as Louis wrestled with the covers, snickering like the prick he was. “You made  _sweet love_  to me, didn’t you? You’re such a cunt! I was sleeping right next to you and you’re dreaming of doing perverted things –“

“No, I didn’t. We were just on a date and it was weird –“

“Oh, please. You can’t fool me. Just show me the boner you got for me. That was no nightmare –“

“It wasn’t like that. There were snakes –“

“I’m sure there were.” Louis thrashed about, laughing in manic bursts.

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m not! You want to have sex with me and have to admit to it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. I’m hot.”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Harry swung his legs out of his bed, scrambling to stand upright and wobbled towards the open door.

“Don’t you want to give me a goodbye kiss, and one extra for good luck. You know, ‘cause you’re going to release the tension.”

“I’m not and you’re not funny. Going to take a piss.”

“That’s so sexy,  _babe_.”

Harry dragged his feet, shuffled around corners and over carpets in the darkness. He hit the light switch outside his bathroom and entered the brightness, slamming the door behind him.

His entire being didn’t revolve around the fact that he was gay at all. Harry was so much and not being straight was not one of his prominent personality assets. But Louis had decided to view Harry as  _the_  homosexual, chose to singularly give Harry that trait, make it all-encompassing and to circle all his ridiculous jokes around  _that_ , make them about penises and butts and their interaction.

Harry gripped the edges of his fancy chrome sink, avoided looking up at his reflection in the squeaky clean mirror.  _Everything_  in Harry’s life was so perfect on the surface. So dull and bland but in a perfect way. Louis at least made things a little more interesting with his teasing, his conceited humour and Harry wasn’t going to be stuck-up about it.

This very day, just a few hours ago Harry had sat down with some friends from his school days. It was good to get a breather from One Direction, was important to have friendships outside of the world of fame and money.

They were a good pack but there was one topic they loved to pester him about. All of them would ask in conspiring voices whether Louis was a good lay, if Harry constantly had his snog on with Louis and Harry could do nothing but keep a whiny expression at bay. Louis was his best mate, and there was no need for them to remind him that Louis looked  _great_. And would look greater if he was all over Harry.

His brain demanded an explanation but his hand didn’t as he wrapped it around his dick. It didn’t actually matter whether his dream had been filled with adult content or innocent longing. The result was in both cases empty horniness and the lack of a partner.

And like any time he gave in to his penis he tried to direct his mind into a certain direction. Hot guys on beaches and pretty boys working at boutiques. Football blokes and actors with striking charisma.

But as soon as he closed his eyes and focused, zoomed in on the men of his desire they all vanished and left one lad in their wake. Harry would wait for a moment, hoping he could change the will of his craving but ultimately seeing a flushed and panting Louis behind closed eyes and closed bathroom door was what he needed.

It began slowly like all dreams did, slowly with an earnest build-up. Kissing or tracing the knuckles of a jittery hand. It’d turn rougher and wilder with tongues and teeth. Love bites or red marks trailing, leading down to that precious V and beyond.

But eventually Harry would go too far in his head and feel like it’d never be far enough, like he couldn’t reach his orgasm with his lousy attempts at fantasizing what Louis would feel like before sex, during foreplay. The heat would uncoil like a serpent and it would hiss and lunge forward, dig its fangs into Harry’s heart and Harry would stroke his penis more, faster, harder.

He pictured fucking Louis’ face or having his face be fucked by Louis or both. He imagined pushing Louis against a wall and grinding against his unwilling but submissive form or turning Louis around and rubbing himself off against Louis’ ass and leaning over him and whispering dirty things into his ear.

Harry liked when the Louis of his fantasy shut up and whimpered and begged him to  _do something_. He also liked it when his imagination made Louis really vocal and rode him and took the initiative and Harry pumped himself to the rhythm the unreal Louis dictated. 

He came silently, with the image of him fucking Louis who was bent over a desk or pressed down into a couch or tied to a bed, ejaculated with that etched, burning hotly behind his eyelids.

Before he could even catch his breath Harry was overtaken by guilt that was too familiar to make him sink to the floor and claw at the tiles anymore. Harry washed his hands, wiped himself clean and even sprayed a bit of aftershave on his torso to conceal his sweaty state.

The trot back to his room wasn’t a walk of shame but it sure wasn’t pleasant either. He snuck through his own home like a criminal, like a fugitive and he realized quite how pathetic he was when he peeked into his room, gauging how asleep Louis was.

With much finesse Harry managed not to shuffle his feet too loudly and even climbed into his bed with extreme care but as soon as he was lain down and ready to have this successfully terrible night over with an arm slapped across his chest from the left.

“Good wank?”

“Sod off.”

“I can smell sperm.” Harry buried his face in his hands. According to rumour Shakespeare had been gay but Harry didn’t think he had had such an insufferable friend in Marlowe as Harry had in Louis. Or maybe he did and due to his personal frustration he took it out on his fictional characters, causing their wonderfully bloody and gruesome deaths.

“You just have to ask if you need my assistance.” Louis cackled as he narrowly evaded a smack from Harry.

“Can’t you just leave me alone. I want to sleep.”

“You were the one who woke me up – you deserve this.” The wetness that entered Harry’s ear was quick and efficient in bringing a rolling quake from his nape down to his tailbone. Louis retracted his tongue with choked laughing and Harry was so close to jumping on him, pinning him down and snogging him just so he’d shut up, so that Harry could fall asleep and dream of a more caring and sensitive Louis.

“You want to have sex with me.” With Louis not respecting him and teasing him in this degrading manner Harry would explode and gravity would fail causing everyone’s roots to untangle and unhook, causing everyone to float away in a cloud of misery.

The urge to weird Louis out by really reaching over and grabbing Louis’ dick continued to grow steadily and Harry knew he’d hit his limit soon if Louis didn’t quit with his _hilarious_ games. Louis had no idea how difficult it was for Harry, how much of a struggle it was to maintain a _straight_  face for the world at all times.

Sometimes Harry just wanted to let it all hang out, put his gay on the table and smear some glitter and sparkles on his face. Rare mood it was but under normal circumstances he always had to make sure not to slip up and tell whomever to stop talking about vaginas for no other reason than  _gross_.

“No.” Harry responded finally after Louis’ breathing had evened and when Harry shut his eyes he pictured a nice, a truly  _nice_ Louis asking him in a kind tone whether he wanted to go out on a date to the theatre.

~


	2. Round 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry was so drunk that he saw straighter than ever before._   
>  _“Shut up, you’re not my boyfriend.”_

Louis was kind of this bitch, this ass of a person. Who made an ass of himself and behaved like a massive twat.

Harry was so drunk that he saw straighter than ever before. Everything that appeared in front of him flashed in clear brightness. Just like the screen of his cell flashed him a pair of naked tits. Nipples and roundness.

He tried to unlock his phone with a swishy Z but it just didn’t work. Louis was laughing, Harry was groaning and really, Harry had to prevent Louis from going clubbing with him next time because right now everything was blurry movements and bamdush music. And the background on his mobile showed female breasts and Louis was so  _childish_.

No one was civilized or quiet or anything resembling to human here with their waving and clapping and fists flying in the air, and Harry just had to drink more to drown his mind, or drown his annoyance. Harry didn’t know which because he  _was_ drinking until he too turned into an alien.

Grimmy slid into the booth and was all crazy limbs and flip-floppy hair. He wore one of Harry’s T-shirts and Harry grabbed his collar, wanting to be all growly and mad.

“You stole my shirt.” Not enough alcohol to ignore his pathetic attempt at sounding angry, not enough to have some tough guy confrontation yet. Harry let Grimmy go, slapping across his neck and sloppily downed a cocktail that wasn’t his and burst out laughing. Because  _cocktail_.

“You’re so selfish. Can’t you share your clothes with your boyfriend?” Louis stood with his back to the dance floor and front pressed against their table. He spoke ultra-loudly making Harry feel deaf and numb. With weak sight Harry spotted Zayn and Liam behind Louis and maybe they were dance-grinding, maybe they were grind-dancing but they were  _there_  and not assisting Harry in warding off Louis.

“He’s just upset that I didn’t bring one of mine for him to –“

“Shut up, you’re not my  _boyfriend_.” Harry hissed back, spitting all over Grimmy who fiddled with the white material of his stolen shirt, of Harry’s property, smiling warmly. Like a silly uncle would.

“Maybe you should take your boyfriend home. He’s totes wasted.” Louis cackled and took the cocktail from Harry’s sweaty hand. Very manly drink, would have been a great comeback but Harry only managed a gurgling sound.

“You’re the one constantly staying at his place.” Grimmy interjected and Harry regretted not finding a friend that could be a bit more helpful, villainous and punch Louis on a regular basis.

“Well, I’m not the one sucking his cock.” Louis was smirking and so proud of his wittiness. Harry glared or squinted or drooled as he licked his lips and put a phrase together inside his muddled and befuddled brain.

“ _You’re_  the one enjoying sucking that cocktail - a lot.” He nailed it. Harry had absolutely nailed his joke. Grimmy huff-puffed in laughter and Harry joined in. The world tilted and Harry couldn’t really tell what was left or wrong, much less right or correct.

“And you’re the one taking it up the arse all the time.” Louis had got himself so immersed in being mean-funny that he didn’t know how to stop anymore. He had been sucked into a vortex of taking jabs at his friends, especially at Harry and he couldn’t escape, couldn’t go a day without telling Harry to swallow more gravy because his skin was looking worse.

“We’re really in no relationship of any kind.” Grimmy spoke steadily and surely and Harry appreciated Grimmy’s fatherly soberness and decided to jump in with another great line.

“Grimmy’s clearly the one who loves to have several sticks up his rear.” The old-fashioned and proper Harry usually kept still and left many things unspoken like a gentleman should but the way Louis aimed at him was unbearable to him in his intoxicated state.

“I’ll leave you two to get it on - yeah.” And with that Grimmy rushed off, probably insulted, possibly embarrassed. He disappeared into a throng of people that were seemingly performing the elaborate routine of the choo choo train or the Macarena, probably both.

“Sorry…” Harry called after him, all slurred and slow. He was really pissed, really wasted and Grimmy didn’t like Louis and Louis didn’t like Grimmy - Harry didn’t know how they’d fallen out since they’d never fallen  _in_ , never got along from the moment they met. 

“So you’re the man in bed?”

“I’m not anything because I’m not together –“

“Don’t you like it back there? I mean, you’re gay. You  _should_ like it.” Harry readjusted his hair. His hands were shaking and he couldn’t really bend his thumb and other fingers to properly fling his hair across his forehead.

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

“You can tell me your favourite sex positions.”

“I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Tragic. You’re still gay for Nicholas.”

“I’m not gay for anyone. You’re gay for that asshole Robbie Williams.”

“Hold up, yeah. Don’t use gay as a slur. That’s really insensitive towards homosexuals everywhere.”

“You’re unbelievable. I’m leaving.” Harry shifted to his right, towards the exit, towards freedom. His feet dangled somewhere beneath him and Louis’ appeared in front of them.

“You only fuck guys? All you do is  _take_.”

“I don’t want to talk to you about this.” Harry pushed himself upright and his body felt like putty or pudding. Louis loved laughing at the expense of other people and anyone who didn’t was lying, cheating himself from some great comedy. Harry enjoyed seeing a guy spill his drink down a girl’s décolleté and his smile grew dumbly as she kicked him in the shin with pumps that had very pointy decorative studs on them.

He grinned in that simple yet effective way because that bloke was yelping and barking and in turn Harry concentrated too little energy on  _not_  standing like a hammered moron which led him to collapse onto Louis. He thought that Louis would fall backwards, crushed under Harry’s weight and drunken momentum and that he could just fall asleep on top of Louis and pretend they weren’t in some VIP club full of washed-out celebrities.

“I gotcha.” Louis really did. Harry rested his chin on Louis’ shoulder, having his arms entrapped in Louis’ embrace and closed his eyes for just a moment. He definitely blacked out though because when he let his eyes flutter open again, when he came to he was in his flat, on his dark green leather sofa.

Louis sat next to him, sipping tea, watching South Park on the gigantic TV. Harry didn’t want to give himself away but his muscles felt giddy and he couldn’t help it when his leg started jittering.

“Welcome back.” Louis drawled the words and Harry tested for bile in his own mouth by moving his tongue around. He couldn’t recall how he had returned to his flat but he didn’t assume, couldn’t quite believe it was Louis who had carried him home. Not because Harry was too heavy but because Louis just wasn’t the type to do something that friendly. Louis would have let Harry sleep in the middle of the road or driven him to the airport and put him on a plane to Australia. Possibly both because Louis was that kind of juvenile – a juvenile delinquent.

“I spiked my tea with vodka. Whole bottle’s gone already.” Louis swung his head and hit Harry’s shoulder. With a groan he pressed his nose against Harry’s shoulder blade, nuzzling downwards to his collarbone and found himself a comfortable position. “I wish I would think my plans through.”

“I wish you would  _think_.” Harry shoved Louis’ head away. Now they were both drunk and Louis would prevent Harry from getting his deserved sleep and rest until they both passed out. Louis put his empty cup wobbly on the table, next to the entirely empty Smirnoff. Harry had bought a whole box of it in a panic one day after realizing he was the  _gay one_  of One Direction, that he was just like Jaymi from Union J - only not out. 

“You  _like_  butts.” Maybe Harry liked big bums and he couldn’t lie but he wasn’t about to break out into song because Louis wanted to try to humiliate him.

“I carry around a nice one too. I bet you love mine. You stare at it all the time, don’t you?”

“No.”

“You want to have sex with me.” Harry couldn’t argue with an asshole like Louis, couldn’t strangle him because their music label would sue him for killing  _the funny one_. He bet if Louis killed him though that their PR would congratulate Louis on having such lovely comedic talent.

“No.”

“You do.” It wasn’t a swift or fast movement but Harry was unable to react and prevent Louis from sitting himself onto his lap. The weight was distributed unevenly, most on Harry’s right leg because Louis sat sideways and Harry was exasperated but not sickeningly dizzy like the club had made him be. The alcohol was seeping out of his system and down the drain, completely impracticable when it came to enduring Louis, the bully.

And as Harry’s drowsy thoughts tried to wiggle their way back to the realm of boring normality, the rubbing started. Louis circled his hips and it was terribly unsexy, the manner with which Louis jerked his whole body to get his hips to move like Shakira’s.

Louis grabbed the back of Harry’s neck and suddenly hot breath shot into Harry’s ear. He kind of expected something a little more daring than Louis blowing air sloppily all over the place but Harry’s mind tripped on the word  _blowing_. His penis became aware of the blowing and Louis continued  _blowing_  Harry with such cluelessness as he ground his behind into Harry’s upper legs.

Negatively phenomenal and positively nauseating. And other things. Harry’s mouth was so dry and his tongue pushed its way out of his mouth and his teeth followed, seemed to drop out of Harry’s controllability, sinking into the juncture between Louis’ neck and shoulder like they belonged to someone else, to someone who wanted to bite Louis’ head off.

Louis tasted of sweat and spice. Of flowers and weeds. Of other deep and complex stuff but mostly sweet sexual desire. Harry wondered if Louis tasted like that all over, if his arms did, if his chest did, if his stomach did, if his thighs did. His thighs surely did, they had to. Harry realized his hand had crawled from grasping Louis’ knees, from trying to keep him in place, to digging into Louis’ thigh. Sweet and sexual. 

Harry savoured the flavour of Louis’ skin, savoured the build up of pressure, pleasure. And Louis’ lips – Harry wanted them, craved for them. He knew he couldn’t have those slightly parted lips and slack mouth and more, he couldn’t but he didn’t remember why. He had no right to claim them, ravish them, drench in their sin but he forgot why he hadn’t bought a permit to gain access to Louis’ mouth.

Louis was completely wasted and gone and Harry was too because he was pretty sure he’d be willing to pay 5000 quid for a kiss from Louis and 10 grand for a full date. He may be more aware of licking a stripe up to Louis’ stubbly jaw than Louis was of giving him a too weak, too pleasant nipple twist but Harry wasn’t the older one. He didn’t need to make the right decision.

He did though, he really did because when he grabbed Louis’ dick the only hard part was the material of the dark jeans above it. Harry dropped his head back against the cool leather of his couch and Louis mewled, didn’t stop rolling his bottom but Harry couldn’t be fooled by his hammered best friend into participating in a nonsensical game. Louis tasted like sour  _never-gonna-get-me_.

Harry shifted and brought his crotch away from dangerous territory and temptation. The alcohol was buzzing in the back of his mind, telling him to see how far Louis would go without actually  _thinking_ , how  _far_  Louis would go to poke fun at Harry.

“I’m knackered and you’re  _queer_.” Louis turned his head to the side and up and his fringe was all over the place. Harry made no move to straighten it and perhaps Louis wanted to punish him for the lack of assistance with his pretty hair because he burped right into Harry’s face a second later. 

~


	3. Round 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry ignored Grimmy’s joking.  
>  “But what if he –“ What if, what if, what if. The  _what if_  ran in confusing circles inside Harry’s head. Running and running and what if._

“So, nothing happened?”

“Lots happened.”

“Nope. No, I’m pretty sure lots would entail something happening.” Grimmy shook his head patronizingly and fatherly.

“Louis won’t remember anything and if he does, he won’t suddenly be convinced that you want to rape him.” Harry sighed – when he had called Grimmy to talk, to calm down and relax, he hadn’t imagined having to help with the grocery shopping.

“He’ll just go on with his routine of being who he is. No need to worry – he’ll never stop being horrible to you.” A bag of chilli crisps, a roll of Pringles and a jar of olives landed in the trolley which Harry was leaning on. They rolled past the chocolates but Harry didn’t even look, avoided temptation.

“But what if he –“ What if, what if, what if. The  _what if_  ran in confusing circles inside Harry’s head. Running and running and  _what if_.

“I’m telling you, he will not actually think that you  _want_  him - since he believes you’re with me.” Grimmy turned the corner, entering an aisle with soft drinks.

“I don’t understand him at all.” Harry leaned against a stable shelf whilst Grimmy heaved six bottles of Sprite into his trolley. 

“You do, you do. I’m sexy.” The joke fell flat and the atmosphere shifted to sombre territory.

“Maybe his behaviour is just his way of coping with me being gay. Maybe he needs this barrier of meanness…” Harry didn’t know why he was making excuses for Louis, why he was protecting him, why it was alright for Louis to behave cruelly towards his friend.

“It might be his defence mechanism against your homo powers, yes.”

“It’s been 2 years.” Harry ignored Grimmy’s joking. 

“Exactly. It  _has_  been 2 years! He’ll never get over it unless you say something. He’ll just continue being a twat.”

“I can handle it. I’m tough enough.” Harry chose the orange juice without any pulp. “I have, like 50 tattoos.”

“That doesn’t make you part of a biker gang. You just look cute with all these little doodles on you.” Grimmy quickly found all the junk food he needed to survive.

“And hot. Zayn says I look sickening.” Harry grinned as he pulled his collar higher, entirely concealing the birds.

“Oh, Zayn. What a nice lad.”

“He’s not your type.” He spoke hastily, trying to prevent Grimmy from rambling on about a special someone’s blond streak and bone structure. They made it to the cashier and began unloading items onto the cash register.

“Isn’t he? I like to think that he’s everyone’s type. Well, except yours. You’re more into assholes.” Bursts of laughter sprang out of Harry - the older lady moving their things over the scanner didn’t lose her rhythm when Harry gasped for air desperately.

“That was the worst pun ever.  _Seriously_ , that was the worst joke ever.” Harry zipped his jacket up all the way and took one of the full shopping bags Grimmy offered him. “I feel proud to be the one to hear it. I am so  _amazed_  by you.”

“Ah, stop it. I’m blushing. At my age I shouldn’t be.” They walked through the sliding doors and the cold slapped them across their faces, reddening them immediately.

“That’s okay,  _dad_.” The wind whistled and Grimmy chuckled in tune.

Everything that had not sunk in yesterday did when Harry woke up this morning. What happened with Louis the night before was horrendous and surely had enormous consequences that Harry couldn’t deal with, couldn’t handle. He ran from his own home and met Grimmy, ran to safety.

“Are you really stressed out because of Louis being stupid yesterday?” Harry dug his hands into his trouser pockets – there wasn’t much room for movement but he still wiggled his fingers relentlessly. “Or are you scared of how he’ll act now?”

“What if he – he wouldn’t think I fancy him, would he?”

“He won’t. He thinks you fancy me. And besides, you know you don’t like him. Remember that.” Grimmy didn’t know, never figured it out – a similarity he shared with Louis. They reached Grimmy’s car and started loading in. “But on a larger scale, I think he just doesn’t quite get  _it_.”

Harry also didn’t think Louis understood  _homosexuality_ \- he probably thought it was an abstract concept that some artists were only pretending to be able to execute. He possibly thought that Harry wasn’t a  _man_ and that being turned on worked differently for Harry than for the rest of the male population. That a hottie sitting on his lap and grinding wouldn’t arouse him.

“You know that he shouldn’t need to  _cope_ , as you said, with you being gay, right? You know that you should stand up to him, yeah?” Grimmy put the last of his groceries into his car and looked more like a guy rapidly approaching 30 than ever before.

“He’s not always like that…” Harry couldn’t help himself – the words rose like bile, like a tidal wave of nausea. He  _always_  found excuses for Louis.

“I know he isn’t but he’s been acting like that more and more.” Grimmy didn’t meet Harry’s eyes and he was cringing slightly – showing clear signs of discomfort. Light topics were Grimmy’s favourite, were his thing – he hated getting personal but he needed to every now and then, for his  _friends_.

“Since we’ve been friends.” Since Harry met Grimmy, Louis acted like a proper brat.

“Yeah.” Grimmy looked so positively lost because their conversation had skydived into a dark abyss.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Don’t be friends with me if you want to be friends with him.”

“I’m not going to choose between –“

“Just stop. This isn’t a telly soap. Prove to yourself that he’s not always like the way he is and –“

“I get it. I shouldn’t let him do and say the things he does.”

“Good. There’s this thing called gay pride.”

“Yeah, there’s also this thing called gay sex. And I’ve had neither for a long time.”

“You mean never.” The drama had dissolved and Grimmy looked refreshed and ready to jest again.

“I’m a popstar. I can get some booty.”

“Where did you learn to talk like that? Justin Bieber?” A comical scowl appeared on Grimmy’s face.

“Swag, swag.” Harry grabbed his crotch and swayed from side to side – making other people laugh or smile made him happy.

“Walk it off, Harold. Walk it off.” Grimmy opened his driver seat’s door and slid inside, waving and chortling like a lunatic.

“See you.” Harry waved back and trotted towards his Range Rover.

“Good luck today.” He didn’t turn around in acknowledgment of Grimmy’s call – Harry needed more than luck.

~

“Get up.”

He tried to be a ball. He  _became_  a ball.

“Get up.”

A ball. Louis was a ball, Louis was a ball.

“Get up.”

Louis was a human and not a ball. Once again his plans to take on another form were foiled.

Harry stood over him. Pleadingly perhaps, anxiously definitely.

“What?” Louis croaked.

“Get up. The meeting’s today. You know - the important one.”

Louis  _knew_  – but he wasn’t a ball and maybe that was Harry’s fault. Maybe Harry had dared to thwart his transformation.

“Fuck you.”

It wasn’t the most delicate way for Louis to phrase that he wanted to be left alone but Harry was a threat to his existence as a ball.

“You’re not a ball and you’ll never be a ball.”

Harry was the epitome of awful. He was the tip of the iceberg plus the ocean that had killed Jack. And there was no Rose in this story – there was Louis, deep-frying his rage until it was crispy and hurt when smashed into one’s face.

“And you have no balls. None! Because you’re a pansy. A cock-loving cunt!” Louis had managed to  _get up_  and threw the blanket that Harry had apparently wrapped him in on the floor. He stalked towards the loo without waiting, witnessing Harry’s reaction.

The door slammed shut behind him – of course Harry had known what he was thinking about. Harry knew everything. Harry was so clever. Harry knew everything  _about balls_. Louis splashed water onto his face - he felt horribly dizzy from last night’s drunkenness.

Harry was a good guy.

Louis inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth - his throat was dry.

Harry was a great guy.

He undressed in sloppy, hung-over movements and stepped into the shower, letting lukewarm water wash down his body.

Louis hadn’t always said the wrong thing, the worst thing possible but over time things had developed a certain way with Harry and he was stuck. Louis was stuck and he couldn’t ask for help because he was  _stuck_.

But today was an important day for Harry. Louis had to be civil, wanted to be civil – which just wasn’t  _that_  easy. He swallowed water from the spray of the shower head above. That was easy – opening his mouth and swallowing. Getting along with Harry wasn’t.

He dried off with one of Harry’s towels and dropped it to the floor carelessly. He stood still for a moment with droplets of water running down his back, along his spine before deciding that picking up the discarded towel would be too odd for him. He hadn’t picked up the blanket either – the one which Harry had placed onto him with care and kindness. _Fuck_. 

Louis pushed – didn’t work – pulled the door open and strutted his stuff. Harry was examining some letters, probably bills but Louis’ wet feet made enough noise to draw Harry’s attention. He instantaneously spun around again, would rather face the wall than Louis’ nakedness.

“We should hit the gym soon. I’m not looking as fit as I should. Or do I? What do you think?” Harry chose not to comment and walked around Louis, evaded Louis in a huge arc.

“What happened yesterday? Were you a bit frisky? Did you go for a good grab?” Louis was pushing to the limits of his comfort zone, breaking his boundaries because he felt like he should with Harry.

“Where did you come from just now?” The younger lad caused the whole flat to smell of outsides – of deadening leaves and creatures seeking hibernation.

“Was with Grimmy.” Harry answered after a long pause - he put the envelopes he was holding away.

It just didn’t sit or stand right with Louis - Grimmy this and Grimmy that, and Louis wasn’t in on the joke. Louis was the funny one, he was non-exchangeable to the group, to everyone’s lives and an old, fugly bloke like Grimshaw just couldn’t. Wasn’t allowed to. Mustn’t spend time with Harry.

“Harry. Harry!” Louis could see the reluctance with which Harry turned around in his spine.

“Helicopter!” Laughter burst out of Louis’ throat in gurgling chokes as he swung his hips around, creating the  _hilarious_  spinning penis effect. Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, backed away from Louis.

“I’m leaving. I don’t care how you get there.”

“I don’t even want to go!” Louis called after Harry’s retreating form. A door slammed shut and Louis’  _cheekiness_  vanished. He had a dry throat again.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to support Harry. It wasn’t like he didn’t  _care_.

~

Conference room, early afternoon.

“I just want to thank everyone – so much. I really – you don’t know how much this means. Thank you so, so much.”

Louis felt like Harry’s speech slowed down with each new syllable that his fat lips formed.

“It means the world to me.”

Harry was never going to stop talking – they were trapped in this room with a moron who was desperately trying to sound coherent.

“And of course I have to thank my best mates – the ones that not only accept my public coming out next week but support it. You guys are the most wonderful –“

Louis felt dense words rising like bile, like a tidal wave of nausea.

“We get it already. You don’t have to talk all day.” He  _didn’t_  feel guilty – he had said what everyone else was thinking anyways. There were people yawning, there were people checking their watches. It was an unprofessional setting altogether.

There wasn’t anything Louis wished to say in defence for himself – he didn’t feel guilty. He  _didn’t_  and there was nothing bad about that, with goofing around.

Harry was an easy target, was a safe target. Harry wouldn’t really, actually get mad, would always welcome Louis back. There was nothing despicable about Louis’ humour – Louis absolutely did not feel guilty.

An undercurrent of uncertainty rushed through Louis when Harry huffed and stared at him with empty eyes. Exasperated teachers wore that scowl as well.

Louis hadn’t even been that irritated – he had only meant to clear the strained vibe that had settled with all the talk about ‘coming out’ and ‘gay’ and whatever else was said. It wasn’t his intention to condemn Harry to live a lie or whatever Harry thought it was he was living now.

Zayn sighed next to him and Louis found all eyes on him, not only Harry’s. He didn’t feel guilty but they were all staring. Louis was a naughty child.

Zayn sighed again and Louis realized that there was also a hand motion – a light twitch of fingers towards the exit.

Louis got up and Harry sprang up as if triggered directly, as if they were linked. Harry raced out of the room and past dozens of personnel. He stopped beside a lonesome water cooler – Louis felt more connected to that inanimate object than Harry.

A menacing glare was directed right at him. Louis was captivated and intimidated by it but stubbornly decided to hold eye-contact, prepared to defend or attack.

“What is wrong with you?”

Louis didn’t expect the expression to darken further. Didn’t expect that growl in Harry’s voice. He didn’t  _know_  that he’d be pushed against a wall and hear his spine crack upon impact, that Harry would press his arm against, _into_  Louis’s neck.

He wondered whether Harry would be upset if he knew what Louis was hoping for - tears and sobbing. Instead Harry’s face showed anger and malice. Louis couldn’t cheer up this person, couldn’t console him – he was overrun by trepidation because Harry overpowered him so easily.

Harry’s eyes were hard and his glare had more strength and quality than his usual smile. A snarl started appearing on his lips and Louis scanned the whole landscape of Harry’s face. Eyebrows drawn together, nostrils flared, mouth sharply set and hair perfectly sculpted.

“Is this a joke to you?” Louis didn’t understand what Harry was so upset about – he couldn’t fathom why it’d be so important for Harry to tell the whole world about his private life, to come out to the public, to have everyone read all about him in the papers. “Am I a joke to you?”

No.

“Am I that much of a joke?!” Spit landed on Louis’ cheek and Harry’s forearm pressed down more strongly, lifted Louis’ chin upward. His windpipe was being crushed and Louis had never needed air more than he did in that moment.

In that moment when Harry’s expression fell, when his body slumped down and Louis no longer felt tiny and insignificant due to Harry’s towering figure.

Louis blinked and breathed heavily, and Harry stepped away from him. Further, and more. It was such a relief for Louis, so relieving when Harry let his gaze drop and Louis didn’t have to give it his all to keep staring back.

And still Louis didn’t feel guilty.

He felt shame.

Shame and so much of it. He had to feel all of it as Harry turned his back to him once more and stalked away.

Louis inhaled deeply but it was no use – his throat clenched, completely dry and he started coughing.

So much shame.

~


	4. Round 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry nodded and Louis nearly made a joke about this being a date.  
>  He stopped himself though – would be an extremely inappropriate thing to say, would be stupid._

“What is it?”

“I’ve something for you.” Louis didn’t know how to broach the subject. He just didn’t know - he was stuck in not knowing how to approach Harry openly.

“ _Please_ , leave me alone.”

They just finished recording a special, stupid charity single and were now stood outside, gazing up at the white-grey sky - thousands of snowflakes were dropping from the heavens in a harmonious symphony.

“But…”

“What is it?” Harry hissed and Louis wanted to retract his outstretched hand. The hostility with which he was met, sizzled right into his veins. Louis’ blood was infected with Harry’s venom and Louis shivered imagining how he’d succumb to the poison eventually.

“Tickets.”

“For what?” Harry asked as if he wanted to know why Louis was trying to apologize, why an apology was in order. Louis couldn’t say it aloud, couldn’t man up so he simply poked Harry’s jacket with an envelope.

With an exasperated sigh Harry ripped it from Louis’ hand and tore the side off. He took a peek inside and gasped.

“ManU versus City?!” Louis was struggling to keep his grin at bay – he was overjoyed by the fact that Harry reacted so positively to his present.

“Two VIPs.”

“How did you get these - how did you get permission from security? Hooligans could kill us at the derby.” Harry met Louis’ eyes _finally_. It was almost 24 hours since Louis was allowed eye-contact and he didn’t want to deal with that again, didn’t want to anger his friend anymore.

“We’ll have to sneak in and out of the stadium tonight.” Surprise lit up Harry’s face and he checked the date before sort of laughing silently.

“We?” Harry asked with that cheeky smile still dancing on his lips.

“You and me.” Louis shrugged and rubbed his hands together.

“You and I.” Harry corrected him.

“Exactly.” Louis smirked when Harry shook his head in well-concealed amusement. He stashed the tickets into his sling bag and a large snowflake landed on his cheek – Louis didn’t brush it away.

“Pick you up at 7?” Harry nodded and Louis nearly made a joke about this being a date. He stopped himself though – would be an extremely inappropriate thing to say, would be stupid.

“Yeah.” Both lads headed to their respective Range Rover.

~

End of first half. The VIP balcony hung high and in the perfect position in the stadium.

Harry hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but the game, but his favourite team in the world playing his favourite sport in the world. He sat overlooking the field from the best angle possible and the ambience was so thrilling that he felt like he could smell the grass that was played on, felt like he was a part of the battle, the clash of the titans.

“Why are you holding back?”

“Hm?” Louis turned his head and met Harry’s gaze. They were surrounded by old men – sponsors and rich football enthusiasts alike.

“You’re holding back. You’re not acting yourself.” Harry leaned over the railing and looked down at the thousands of fans dressed in red, at the sea of red. They were all here for one reason only – Manchester United beating the crap out of Manchester City.

“Sure I am.”

“You’re not.”

“What’s bothering you about me?” Louis drew his eyebrows together, frowned and Harry got up, glancing down at Louis’ irritated expression.

“You’re not relaxed. You’re sitting here super stiffly.” Harry saw the shadow of a glimmer swim through Louis’ eyes.

“Great opportunity – why don’t you tell me that I’m getting a stiff one watching all those blokes play with balls?” He knew if he pushed the right buttons, Louis would be obliged to counter with a classless joke.

“Is nobody attractive on the field.” Louis rose from his seat with his mouth pressed into something similar to a pout only more strained, much less cute.

“Really? I disagree.” Harry crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side.

“The whole stadium is filled with ugly.” Louis rolled his eyes.

“I think Rooney is sort of swell.”

“Rooney?  _Rooney?_ ” In a flash, incredulousness appeared on Louis’ face. “Wayne Rooney is a great player but not… he’s not good-looking.”

“It’s about what’s inside.” Harry put a hand over his heart.

“You want to be inside of R–“

“ _No_! I’m trying to be funny.”

“You’re awful at that.” Louis led them away from their seats and towards the door. A politician was walking terribly slowly in front of them. “At being funny.”

“I learned from the worst.” Harry poked Louis in the ribs from behind, eliciting a squeak that was covered up with a high cough.

“Oh, haha.” Louis rolled his eyes again.

“I want to call El.” They had made their way to a single person loo and Harry was overtaken by the urge to prevent meaningful communication between his best mate and his girlfriend.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Sure you will  _come with me_.” Louis huffed and smiled – he seemed more relaxed and back in his element. “You just want to make a move on me.”

“Exactly.” Harry wouldn’t play defensively anymore. He too would use an offensive strategy at this game in which they were enwrapped, in which Harry had never agreed on participating.

“You wouldn’t actually do it.” Louis pushed open the door to the lavatory and stepped inside. Harry followed and leaned onto the small sink.

“You don’t know what I’d do if provoked.” Harry challenged as he dug his hands into his pockets.

“You’re bluffing so much, man.” Louis snorted, locked the door, closed the lid of the toilet and sat down with his legs wide apart. Classic assertion of manliness.

“Call your girlfriend.” Harry didn’t look directly at his friend.

“That’s a song.” Louis added.

“Mhm.”  _And tell her you’ve found someone new_  - Harry sung in his mind. Louis tapped on the touchscreen of his mobile and held it to his ear whilst inspecting his shoes.

“She’s not picking up.”  _And tell her you’ve found someone old_ \- Harry corrected the lyrics inside his head.

“Too bad.” Louis nodded in acknowledgement of Harry not really caring and pocketed his phone.

“Ah, well. All there’s left to do now is for you to pop my cherry.” Louis clapped once and kicked Harry’s shin. The younger lad yelped and grabbed Louis’ collar, pulling him into a standing position.

“You’re insufferable.” Harry swatted away the hands that attempted to tickle him, trapped both within one of his and pinned Louis against the wall before the shorter guy could pose as a real threat.

“This is terribly familiar.” Louis spoke lowly and Harry nearly leapt off of him.

“Sorry.” He hadn’t meant to be a brute, hadn’t meant to be so ticked off but publicly coming out was a sensitive topic, was something scary and insane.

“Say it like you mean it.” Louis muttered, grunted and Harry still didn’t let Louis’ hands go. “You want to have sex with me.”

Harry wanted to understand how all of their conversations returned to, revolved around that but Louis’ fingers were slipping between Harry’s, intertwining with Harry’s and distracting him severely. Sweat was forming on his palms and he used his other hand to secure Louis’, to ensure Louis wouldn’t escape.

“You don’t know what I’d do when provoked.”

“I don’t.” Louis confirmed and rested his head on the tiles behind him. “Something gay probably.”

Harry smirked and Louis returned it. They held eye-contact for too long and Harry tentatively moved closer. He licked his bottom lip and watched Louis do the same. Their hands were caught between their bodies, between their hipbones as Harry stepped even closer.

He put his mouth to Louis’ ear.

“What are you thinking about?” Harry whispered. “I can hear your heart pounding.”

“Your mom.” No confidence in Louis’ voice. None.

Harry responded by licking a fat stripe down Louis’ jaw.

“Ew.” Louis craned his head to the side, trying to get away from Harry’s assault of saliva. He wiggled his hands out of Harry’s and pushed the taller lad away from himself. “Your mouth is  _weird_.”

“And yours is better?” Harry wiped his hands on his trousers.

“My mouth could blow your head off.” Louis challenged.

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” Harry leaned against the sink again, gripped its edges for support, for security.

“You have no idea what I’d do.” Louis readjusted his fringe hastily, shakily.

There was only one direction in which this situation could potentially develop and Harry didn’t think it was very clever to let it happen, to dare Louis to go there.

He needed to put a halt to Louis’ juvenility, had to be an adult about this and stop Louis from doing something severely regrettable.

“Can you blow my whistle?” Harry blurted out.

He wanted to take the words back, wanted to erase them but Louis’ eyes went wide – he blinked and many muscles in his face twitched, making him appear torn and fractured inside. Louis was just a  _guy_  - a normal guy who was insecure about hearing his voice on tape, of knowing his weight and not fitting into his jeans anymore.

Louis dropped to his knees with his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Doubt was apparent on his face but Harry was too paralysed to do anything about  _anything_.

Panic welled up inside of him when Louis inhaled, exhaled deeply, when Louis prepared himself. Harry didn’t think he could bring himself to end this, to give up on his opportunity to take the mick out of his best mate.

Louis became more and more petrified – Harry could tell the terror increased further but he still unzipped his black jeans fully. Louis had done worse things, done the worst things and needed to receive a dose of his own medication, needed to understand that this was the final round of making fun of the queer boy.

“Let me know when you’re ready.” Harry said as he lightly thrust his hips forward - he heard Louis gulp loudly.

“I can show you how to do it.” He was flirting with disaster and knew that he couldn’t be as large of a dick as Louis, he couldn’t behave as cruelly but he rolled his trousers down anyways.

”We can start real slow.” Harry dipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and Louis squeezed his eyes together, fists balled tightly. This was the moment that the words to put the kibosh on this should be uttered but it occurred to Harry that Louis might not know what a safe word was, might have never learned when the jesting was taken far enough, too far.

Suddenly Louis’ warm hand grabbed a corner of his underpants and pulled them down roughly. Harry’s hold on them wasn’t sufficient - Harry’s will wasn’t sufficiently strong but when Louis reopened his eyes, he did manage to close his own. There was no reason he had to witness Louis’ trepidation evolve into resoluteness.

“You just put your lips together.” Harry’s brain had short-circuited and the words that left his mouth were a mushy, weird mess. “And come real close.”

He cringed when Louis’ lips actually touched his tip but did nothing to prevent his best friend from going further, from freaking and grossing himself out by touching another guy’s dick.

The head of his penis disappeared in a pleasant hotness, exhilarating heat and no matter how hard, how extremely hard he tried to deny it, he just couldn’t  _not_  admit to the fact that he was so incredibly turned on right now. So fucking turned on by his best mate who had never come in contact with another guy’s dick, who had Harry’s cock inside his mouth right now.

Louis sucked very lightly, taking in more and coughed around Harry’s penis like he would when he attempted smoking, when he smoked a fag. His tongue darted out and about and around, and Harry couldn’t gauge exactly how erect he was, wasn’t aware of how far gone he was.

And if Harry had ever made a crucial, catastrophic mistake in his life, it didn’t even compare closely to him unsqueezing his eyes when Louis’ teeth scraped along his cock.

He saw Louis, gazing up at him with half-lidded, squinting eyes – what he saw imprinted itself in his mind viciously. Louis’ hair was completely dishevelled and the imagery looked fake anyway because Louis was giving Harry a  _blowjob_  of life-altering proportions, was licking a fat stripe along his length.

Harry came, ejaculated right into Louis’ mouth when the older lad moved his hands on Harry’s upper legs, on his thighs. It felt like a massage, felt like Louis knew exactly what he was doing, like it was his intention and Harry nearly spilled all his sperm down Louis’ throat.

He pulled out, away and choked on his next breath when some of his spunk trickled down Louis’ chin. He watched Louis cough, gag and spit all over the floor but a bit of his semen still remained stuck to Louis’ lips and cheek.

This experience was singularly the most erotic  _anything_  - and now it was over and he had to tuck his limp penis away again, had to clear his head from the absurd highness to which he had just travelled, get back to reality.

Louis smeared the evidence of what had just happened across his face with a sloppy movement of the back of his hand and stood up on wobbly legs. Harry gave him loads of distance and didn’t assist him in unlocking the door.

It took him long, awkward seconds to turn the shutter and he almost fell out, stumbled out of the toilette if Harry hadn’t steadied him by his hips. He immediately let go again though.

Louis walked away quickly and Harry followed him to the parking lot. They left the stadium and didn’t speak a word. Harry didn’t even look at Louis, didn’t try to guess Louis’ thoughts from his expression because all he would have seen was the sex face from earlier.

~

Next morning, Harry’s kitchen.

Harry looked up the results of the match on his mobile.

“ManU won.” He stated when Louis entered – they stared at each other before Louis left, ran out of Harry’s home.

~


	5. Round 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He detested it because if a writer was to describe Harry lifting weights they’d use expressions such as pearls of sweat trickled down Harry’s chiselled physique, raced down his broad neck, outran one another to touch more hard muscle._

Sweat.

Sweat was the primary component that determined whether a workout was successful or not - and Louis hated it. He hated it because he was drenched in sweat, was the image of unattractiveness as he ran on a treadmill, panted pathetically with his fringe flat on his forehead - and Harry was  _Harry_ , was shirtless for absolutely no reason at all.

Harry was lifting weights – and Louis  _detested_  it. He detested it because if a writer was to describe Harry lifting weights they’d use expressions such as  _pearls of sweat trickled down Harry’s chiselled physique, raced down his broad neck, outran one another to touch more hard muscle,_ or  _the grunts escaping Harry’s throat were so masculine, so primal that they caressed something within the female’s anatomy, that they_   _simply made ovaries explode._

Girls were flocked around Harry – some were lifting small and smaller weights in irregular intervals and others were lying on the floor, scattered about, doing half-assed press-ups. They wore tiny gym shorts that barely covered their bums and most were constantly readjusting the position of their breasts within tight,  _tight_  sport-bras.

And what Louis disliked the most was that Harry ignored it all, that Harry was completely unfazed by the attention, utterly disinterested.

Louis punched the acceleration button again. If one  _could_  run emotionally, then he was running angrily. Very.

Harry was such a great pretender. He pretended to casually exercise, just like their management had ordered them to and wasn’t attracted to any of the tits present. Louis wasn’t either, of course – he had a girlfriend. He was a good boyfriend and  _the such_ \- but Harry was a horrible friend, who didn’t care to introduce his adoring fans to other people who might like the feminine distraction from their insane thoughts.

Louis wanted to scream and shout, to violently scream and shout, wanted to tell all those birds that Harry liked his chicks with more dick. That Harry liked to get his cock sucked by guys – guys like Louis.  _Like Louis_.

He hit the  _power_  button furiously, spitefully and almost fell over as he tripped his way off the treadmill. Not a single soul assisted him in regaining his footing and he stared incredulously as a tan blonde slipped a piece of paper into Harry’s pocket.

Right pocket -  _right_  next to Harry’s dick. Harry’s penis.

Louis spun around – he had nearly made eye-contact with Harry. He looked around frantically, searching for an escape but only ended up meeting Harry’s eyes in the mirrored wall.

He shut his own immediately and blindly grasped for the nearest workout station. He climbed onto the seat and desperately tried to fit his Nike trainers into the pedals.

One didn’t go in and he slid off the bike, holding onto the unmoving steering wheel for his dear, young life. He didn’t imagine the familiar burst of a laugh that resonated from the other side of the gym, didn’t make it up and he opened his eyes again to glare at Harry.

And that hurt. It was painful.

It was painful to look Harry in the eye, to see the happiness drain away and be replaced by fearful confusion. It hurt and Louis just couldn’t stand it.

This whole situation – what had happened the day before, what Harry had brushed off as nothing this morning by telling him the result of the football game they’d missed because Louis was busy with other balls.

Everything was a mess. Everything was amiss because of what Louis had done, shouldn’t have done. Once again everything was his fault, was his wrongdoing.

Louis had no idea how to act or what to think. In his internal chaos he had even registered deliberating whether Harry checked out his ass whilst he was running. The mirrors were right behind him – he wouldn’t blame Harry for checking out his behind.

But maybe he would blame Harry. Maybe yesterday caused him to suffer a grave inner scarring and maybe he wasn’t the same person anymore. Maybe he would die because he was that bedevilled from lying awake all night, from not being able to fall asleep in Harry’s guestroom.

Louis properly sat himself on the bicycle ergometer and pedalled  _angrily_. He focused on the window and the view it offered him - a foggy, dark city.

He didn’t care one bit, two bit, didn’t care a thousand bit for what Harry did. He concentrated on his own sweat dripping down his own body and was untouched by Harry’s fitness training.

~

A day passed.

And another.

And Harry didn’t know what to make of it.

Louis was still staying in his guestroom and didn’t sneak into Harry’s room in the middle of the night anymore to scare him. They only crossed paths for work-related activities at day and life was therefore calm.

Harry didn’t know what to make of that.

He unlocked his front door and kicked his shoes off. They fell onto a pile of others of the kind. Converse he hadn’t worn in months were mixed with polished leather chaussures – that alone could be an indicator for how messed up his life was. He couldn’t even get his footwear straight, couldn’t even get those in order.

A pair that belonged to other feet was thrown under the umbrella holder – Louis was here and not in his own home, once again.

Harry trotted into his living room area, only to walk back again and into his bathroom. He washed his hands with cold water and inspected a fading zit on his forehead.

A door opened somewhere in his flat.

He dried his hands on his grey jeans, leaving absurd wet prints on his upper legs and dragged himself to his kitchen.

Louis surprised him even though he was awaiting, expecting him – the older lad had made no sound until he reached the kitchen floor. Harry jumped slightly – hopefully not enough for Louis to notice, for Louis to humiliate him with it.

“Good day, sir.”

Harry reacted by turning around slowly. He was met with a humorous expression, with familiar cheekiness in every trace of Louis’ body - he wore a lopsided smirk, had his eyebrows raised a tad, was leaning sideways against a chair and his hair was up in a stiff swoop.

“Got a present for you again.” Louis was holding a blue box. “Little reconciliation gift, one might say.”

Harry stared – it wasn’t easy to blankly stare because there were so many things he had to take in at once. Louis was the opposite of bland, of uninteresting and Harry found it often difficult to figure out what was coming his way – especially because Louis looked so normal, so himself currently. So  _Louis_.

“Truce.” Louis stretched his arm out, offering Harry the box. He took it carefully yet curiously – he didn’t believe that everything could be alright again. Louis couldn’t have just decided to get over blowing him – life wasn’t that simple.

He removed the lid.

“If you don’t have any use for it, I’m sure I could put it to proper  _use_.” Louis’ tone was suggestive, was flirtatious. It was everything that it shouldn’t be.

He dropped the lid. It fell to the floor with a dull thud and Louis moved his body into a more upright stance. Life wasn’t simple – it was complicated. Louis was complicated and was trying to get back at Harry.

A vibrator was in the box.

Harry lowered his gaze – his eyes moved from right to left and back rapidly. His teeth clattered silently and he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t show weakness – he mustn’t start shaking with fury or some other emotion.

But Louis laughed – he began laughing, cackling with all his might. He exploded with laughter and Harry closed his eyes and placed the box on the counter to his left and steadied himself against it.

“I’d get some lube.” Louis spoke through his guffawing. “Then I’d stretch myself. With a few fingers, right.” Louis stepped forward.

“It’ll hurt but I’ll want it, right.” It was a statement, not a question. Louis twisted his body forward and took the vibrator from its case.

“And then I’d lube the dildo.” Louis held the vibrator at its base – his hand fit around it perfectly.

“And I’d put it in - slide it in.” Harry looked up – Louis’ eyes immediately lost their twinkle. “Smoothly.” He didn’t say it smoothly.

“It’ll fit perfectly and I’ll lie on my back. And I’d pant like a needy whore.” He tried, was really trying to convey superiority – Harry could see that. But Louis was failing. Not miserably though, and he didn’t give up yet.

“I’ll writhe and want it like a need whore, right.” Harry watched Louis juggle the vibrator from hand to hand. It lay in each for only a few seconds before Louis seemed to be burned by it as if it were hot metal instead of cold plastic.

“And then I’ll reach round, down myself and I’ll pull it out.” Louis’ voice lowered to a murmur. “The dildo.” Harry fixated on Louis’ eyes again – they avoided his hurriedly.

“Not all the way. The top – I mean, tip will still be in and I’ll beg myself to insert- “ Louis’ face forced a gleeful grimace once more due to his choice of word but it seeped away instantly. “I’ll  _insert_  it back in. All the way.” Harry observed how Louis cracked, broke. All the way.

“And I’ll scream because it’s just so incredible.” Louis’ cheekbones hardened, then trembled and he swallowed between words.

“So good.” Harry didn’t need to do anything but stare as Louis lost his reason, explanation for doing this, as Louis forgot why describing how he’d use a vibrator was a good idea, how this was supposed to be getting back at Harry for something he had willingly done. And on top of that, what he was doing now was willingly too.

“Right?”

Louis had lost his confidence completely. Harry could tell. He could tell by the way his own chest was heaving up and down heavily. He could sense that Louis was no longer self-assured because of the way his own fists were clenched, because of the way his nails were digging into his sweaty palms.

“You should see your face.” It was just a whisper – Louis coughed before he continued more loudly yet more shakily. “You look like you’re ready to  _explode_.”

Harry noted the emphasis on Louis’ last word – his penis did too. And that’s what pushed him over the edge. The fact that he was just a guy with needs and  _the such_ , and that Louis shouldn’t tease, attempt to tempt him like this.

“Fuck.” He grabbed the box and threw it against the wall behind Louis – Harry felt the horrified gasp more than heard it. Louis’ body froze up and Harry could feel how the dominance shifted fully, how the whipped little gay boy gained the uppermost hand.

“You.” Spit flew from his mouth and Louis’ form shrank due to Harry’s fury or some other emotion – Harry had asserted himself as the alpha male, had darkest intents written in his eyes.

Slamming the door was de rigeur as he stormed out of his apartment. He felt all the guilt from the football game ooze away but the lust clutched harder at his heart and wouldn’t rinse away even with his angry tears.

He really didn’t know what to make of so many things.

Harry didn’t know what to make of Louis behaving as rudely, crudely as always. And he just didn’t know what to make of everything  _not_  being the same despite Louis’ best efforts.

He really didn’t know what to make of being so much stronger now.

~

Louis put the vibrator back into its packaging and stared at it.

The orange colour truly looked ridiculous.

He didn’t further his musings and put the lid on the box.

~


	6. Round 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry licked his lips and then wiped the wetness away with his sleeve. A girl approached him.  
>  Louis looked like he was about to punch his own face. _

He was sober at the party.

It was less a late night garden party and more of a social soirée. More of a sophisticated event.

Girls and boys of all ages mingled with cocktails in hand. They talked about their lives in posh expressions and even described the weather in twisted phrases.

It was a pretentious event with pretentious people and Harry would have felt right at home, just not today.

Today he was subverting expectations by staying completely dry, entirely sober. He just couldn’t get into the vibe and flow of this private fest with all its semi-hipster guests.

A Britney song started playing and Harry enjoyed the change in atmosphere that came with the old classic. A few stuck up their noses even higher than before but most were overcome with a lightness that repelled the depressing and heavy ambiance created by their own doing.

Zayn had surprised Harry by actively speaking out about wanting to come to the party. He had dragged Liam along and Louis had somehow ended up amongst the attendants as well - Harry chose not to dwell on it.

Liam was filling his guts with booze, trying to kill the pain left by his breakup. Zayn helped and Louis complained about everything – Harry could tell even from standing far off from the other One Direction members.

Harry licked his lips and then wiped the wetness away with his sleeve. A girl approached him.

“So,” She said. “you’re single?” That was how she chose to start the conversation with him.

“As much as I can be.” Harry scanned her from head to toe. It was an easy way to fake interest.

“Cool.” She said. “Cool.” She had probably wasted enough flirt-power on other guys who turned out to be taken. She probably only wanted something safe but still sexy. Harry accepted the indirect compliment.

“What’s your name?” Today he didn’t care to be polite and properly introduce himself. The girl, who quite looked his age, knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was – and yet nobody  _knew_  him.

“Silly me.” She fake-laughed. “Alia.”

“Is that short for anything?” His attention was being pulled away again.

“Maybe.” As if on cue,  _Call Me Maybe_  started playing and groans mixed with some people’s chanting of the song text. Louis looked like he was about to punch his own face.

“The song is so summer twenty-twelve.” She said as she swayed to the beat.

“Only  _Gang Man Style_  would be worse.” He tried to participate in the conversation, tried to keep his eyes glued to her.

“It’s  _Gangnam Style_  but whatever. I don’t care.” She shrugged. Grimmy was having the time of his drunken life at the DJ desk – he would surely put that awful song on the playlist as well. He liked to disrupt the indie and rock music tastes of the people present.

“Yeah.” Harry agreed and saw that Louis was mouthing the lyrics, the words to himself.  _I took no time with the fall, you gave me nothing at all._ And suddenly Louis turned around and met Harry’s gaze from across the garden.

He continued to stare at Harry but said something to Zayn out of the corner of his mouth, and Harry shivered, feeling his nipples harden from the cold.

“I’m here with a friend.” Alia interrupted Harry’s internal whirlwind. “I really had to persuade her to come. But she ended up bringing an  _unwanted_  guest with her.”

“Nobody’s ever unwanted. We live in a free country.” Harry concentrated on her exquisite, enormous glasses and not on the figure coming closer.

“She just saw me. You’ll know what I mean when you meet them.” She waved to someone behind Harry and he wondered if a member of  _The Wanted_  was here. Her face showed obvious nervousness and even discomfort – she wished to be alone with Harry but luck wasn’t on her side.

“Hey there.” Alia batted her eyelashes and Harry thought of  _Delilah_ , the star of a number 1 hit from 6 years ago. He hadn’t liked the song at the time but upon seeing what it was like in New York City, he also perceived Times Square as not being able to shine as bright when one’s love wasn’t there.

“Hi. I was looking for you everywhere!” A girl that looked way too young for alcohol stepped around him. She sprang a step away when she recognized him and he smiled curiously at the toddler in her arm.

“Oh my.” She said and her baby drooled.

“What’s his name?” Alia’s friend jerked to the side again as Louis appeared next to her, scanning the little blue onesie the infant was wearing and Harry would have liked to say something about gender roles but felt it might be inappropriate if one was not intoxicated.

“Ronald.” Louis’ eyes widened at the sound of the name and Ronald started to wail. Harry’s mind was in a hazy frenzy – he couldn’t remember whether he was majorly upset with Louis or whether everything was the same, couldn’t recall if there was a special reason for Harry to think that Louis was a proper twat this time around because Louis was wearing a new, wide jumper and still managed to look like he always did, managed to not change on the surface due to recent happenings.

“May I?” Louis loved making Harry’s life harder but this was the icing on top of the dessert that Louis took away from him after he had waited all his life to eat it.

Alia’s friend handed the baby over without any hesitation, with an adoring smile and Ronald stopped crying as soon as Louis was cradling him comfortably. A few heads around them checked what had turned the squealing off and Harry didn’t know if this alone was proof enough for Louis not being a bad guy. At court, at an official trial the judge wouldn’t waver from his decision to rule Louis guilty of ugliest homophobia.

“Oh my. He’s usually quite the screamer - Ronald isn’t a year yet. I didn’t mean to bring him – it just kind of happened. I love him so much. You’re handling him great.” The young mother was overjoyed by Louis taking care of her son. Harry held back from saying anything about how bad of an environment for a toddler this party was – the air was thickening with smoke and the stench of hard liquor.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been told I’d make an excellent wife.” Louis could’ve acted differently, could’ve said a million things or nothing at all. But he chose to be himself and Harry sort of admired him for that. No matter the circumstance Louis stayed strong and true to himself.

Louis was often to always wrong in his jesting ways but there was still something grand about being able to push sucking off another guy as well as humiliating himself in front of the same guy to the back of his mind and to joke in his natural manner.

“And I, his good-hearted husband, who cooks, cleans and does really everything work-related.” Harry would like to achieve that too. He wanted to go to sleep at night, knowing he was absolutely himself all day long. No more colorful lies.

“Obviously.” Louis smirked in that kind yet still condescending manner of his and Harry couldn’t resist stroking over Ronald’s soft cheek. The baby giggled and drooled onto his finger and Louis put his head to the side, almost knocking into Harry’s but clearly not caring as he pulled a funny face for the baby.

“You really would make a good couple.” Alia’s friend would remain nameless - it would be too awkward to ask for her name now that Harry and Louis had already behaved like two proud, young parents with her baby.

“We’ve been told.” Louis gave Ronald back to his mother, gently. “But we’re still considering our options.”

Harry laughed – and in the next moment Louis laughed too. Harry was frustrated with Louis for various reasons but perhaps they could work everything out, could rekindle their friendship with some good, well-placed humour.

Alia seemed rather displeased by the whole development, by losing the little attention she’d been able to draw to herself and Harry couldn’t keep his smugness at bay - she never stood a chance against Louis. Nobody did.

With that realization fresh in his system, Harry slapped Louis’ behind.

Louis literally jumped a metre forward.

Harry grinned. He could get used to this power play.

~

“Why did you play it up?” Harry’d much rather not stand in this secluded area, next to the greenhouse but Louis had led them here, away from all the commotion and Harry had followed in search of less solitude. “They could think we’re – they could think you’re gay.”

“I don’t care what they think.” Louis leaned his back against the robust metal and glass build that held plants that had twisted phrases as names.

“Of course you do.” Harry took on a mocking tone.

“And you don’t?” Louis mocked right back. “You care so much and yet you’re coming out in a few days.”

A pause. Harry collected his thoughts from the dirty ground.

“What’s so bad about that? About being gay?” He threatened, dominated. “Hm? What’s so wrong about it?”

“It’s not.” Louis hissed exasperatedly. “It’s just that everyone will judge you.”

Irrational emotions swept over Harry. How dare someone judge him - someone who didn’t even know him had no right to judge him, to expect anything from him.

“Why?” Harry faced Louis head on. “Why do you judge me?!”

Louis wasn’t bewildered or astonished by Harry’s direct question. He sighed half-heartedly and before he could finish rolling his eyes Harry had him cornered, had pushed him against the cold glasshouse.

They both wheezed simultaneously and the world was flipped over, throwing everything out of its complex structure and into a tangled web of one singular orientation, one needy notion.

Harry’s hands moved down and hovered over the hips of a friend, of a person whose intimacy he craved. 

Another pause. Harry lost his thoughts on the dirty ground again.

When he put the key into the lock of the handcuffs he had put on himself, when he allowed himself to finally fold the fuzzy jumper up, his senses worked in the highest gear.

He smelled skin that he had read about in fairy tales, tasted air that was sweeter than clouds, heard an allegro vivace tempo in his pulse, felt bodies react as echoes of each other.

Harry saw all of Louis, even saw all of himself reflected in Louis’ eyes and any existing logic evaporated.

Some nights he wished that his lips could build a castle. He peered down at the mouth not close enough to his, wishing for one touch. One would suffice. One kiss wouldn’t kill no one.

Some nights he wished they’d just fall off. He watched the lips that he worshipped as his sanctuary at the end of his endless quest, saw the bottom lip be bitten by teeth against which he wished to scrap his dry tongue.

That proved to Harry that Louis wasn’t into this - he was only tricking, fooling himself into thinking that Louis was feeling anything he was.

And in the next moment Harry had Louis pressed more against the greenhouse. Their bodies were flushed against one another.

It wasn’t supposed to be this easy – to overpower Louis, to take control. Harry rubbed his dick along Louis’ leg. He panted as he evaded kissing Louis’ neck and turned his head to the side instead.

Harry rocked hard against Louis’ body. His fingers dug harder into Louis’ waist. His nails definitely left marks. His knees knocked against Louis’. His arms trembled from the effort of holding on. His penis hurt inside his tight trousers.

He released his hands from their prison and let them attack Louis’ derrière. He decided he didn’t need his senses to be alert, active as he massaged what he could never call his belonging. He didn’t care for Louis’ side of the story right now. This was about him - him not fighting his desires.

His left hand smoothly wandered lower, and evened out the wrinkles in Louis’ jeans as it travelled up again. His right hand squeezed, let go, squeezed Louis’ butt cheek and he slid his index finger from the top, down Louis’ ass crease. And up again. 

And then it ended abruptly.

He soiled his pants and even though his breathing was off and his brain not there yet he stepped away instantly.

He couldn’t even look at Louis anymore, couldn’t deal with him. He couldn’t accept what he had just done as his own doing and he couldn’t put the blame on Louis either.

He mustn’t say that because of Louis’ previous behaviour he had acted the way he had now. He couldn’t blame Louis’ cruel teasing, horrible tempting for his own desires.

But maybe he could. Maybe he would. Maybe he needed to colour Louis as the bad guy to get over him.

Harry took another shaky step back and through the glass behind Louis, he saw someone.

Someone had seen them – the blurry figure seemed to sense that they were spotted because they spun around and rushed away.

Harry let his head drop and didn’t tell Louis about not having any luck – Louis didn’t need to know anything. Louis shan’t know anything because everything was worse with Louis involved. Louis had to go.

Without dwelling on the fact that Harry didn’t even know in what state he left Louis, he dragged his feet to where the music was blasting the loudest and didn’t look back at Louis. He just couldn’t deal with Louis.

Some nights Harry stayed awake, cashing in his bad luck. He tripped past people of all sizes and almost fell over when he recognized 2 familiar faces in the crowd.

Liam was dancing to  _Single Ladies_  and Zayn of all people was also partaking in the freakish spectacle. They each shook one of their hands wildly and Harry was astounded by how filled with surprises Zayn was.

There were so many layers to a human and the most interesting would only surface through the touch of another person. And the next thing he knew was Zayn slapping Liam’s bottom. 

Tonight Harry would just call his life a draw.

~

A few hours later.

Harry watched the sunrise. He watched as the sun rose behind the majestic towers of the city jungle. The horizon was tinted in bright pink - it warmed his soul.

This was real beauty. This was untouchable beauty, heart-warming prettiness. There were no complications to loving the sunrise. No side-effect.

Harry saw Louis emerge from the premise, step onto the street the same way Harry had - through the backdoor like a filthy criminal. He was readjusting his shirt but all his movements ceased when his eyes met Harry’s. They stared at each other not long enough. Louis lowered his gaze first, looked directly at Harry’s crotch before twisting around and leaving toward the parking lot.

Harry abashedly watched Louis’ bum disappear – there were so many troubles that came with liking that heterosexual arse.

And suddenly Harry realized that he could go blind if he looked at the sun long enough.

The discovery made him shudder violently and any solace he had found in the magnificent sunrise was stolen from him. He was left with nothing at all.

~


	7. Round 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Louis was struggling.  
>  “You want to have sex with me.”_

“Just spill it. I want to sleep.  _Please_.”

Harry coughed. “I … I –“

“Okay. I’m throwing you out. The worst hangover is coming my way and I just want to sleep it off.”

“I took advantage of someone.”

Grimmy stopped pushing him toward the front door. Harry tried to gauge from Grimmy’s reaction whether he was the one who had seen him and Louis at the glasshouse.

“What did you do, Harold.”

“Grinding. Just that.” Harry said simply – Grimmy’s shock seeped away and maybe it was an act. Maybe Grimmy had seen them. Maybe everything wasn’t so bad.

“Grinding? With who?” Grimmy let go of Harry’s shoulders and they stared at each other.

“You’re not going to tell me?” A nod followed.

“Will he tell?” Grimmy crossed his arms.

“I don’t know.” Harry stroked through his hair.

“So probably not.” Grimmy asked flatly.

“It wouldn’t be profitable for him, no.” Harry searched Grimmy’s face for any indication of him having leered at Harry through the glass.

“Then you’re good and can leave me alone.” Grimmy punched Harry’s shoulder and pushed him toward his door. Harry barely kept his footing as he was thrown out of Grimmy’s flat.

“I really don’t need your childish worries when my head is pounding like a bitch.” There was some sympathy and empathy on Grimmy’s face but mostly exasperation and sleep-deprivation. “The lad is probably in love with you anyway.”

Harry shook his head as Grimmy slammed the door shut behind him and whoever had seen Harry and Louis was still out there, was still a danger to Harry’s world.

~

Louis was struggling.

He couldn’t think clearly enough to know with what exactly he was struggling. He walked through the empty recording studio, trying to find a place to rest his troubled head.

There were plenty of seats in one of the rehearsal rooms but he had taken a wrong turn and had no idea where he was now. He scratched his calf mid-step and hobbled forward.

To his right side a door appeared, had a little window in it and inside he could glimpse at a couch. He tried the door and it gave.

“Lucky.” He muttered as he strolled in, planning to lie on the couch and happily fall asleep.

“Hey.”

Louis shrieked as a body stepped out of the shadows. A light switch was tapped on and bulbs overhead sprang into action.

“Fuck. You scared me.” His heart didn’t beat as fast as he knew it could but he still felt like he had barely avoided suffering a stroke.

“Sorry.” Niall smiled. “Are you okay?”

Louis wasn’t alright. Or at least he didn’t think he was. “Yeah.” Louis sat down.

“You really don’t look it, mate.” Niall sat down next to him on the sofa.

“Had a rough night.” Louis wanted to readjust his jeans.

“Was the hipster party good?” Niall snickered, snorted and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his upper legs and his chin on his clasped hands. He stared straight ahead and his eyes were blank.

“Could’ve been better.” Louis hit his own knee and his whole leg jumped.

“It always could have been better.”

“You’re right.” Louis laughed, relaxed.

Niall smiled and closed his eyes – it looked like he was praying. “How’s El?”

“With Danielle. I’m not supposed to call.”

“Danielle’s crying a lot?” Niall inquired sombrely.

“I heard, yeah.” Louis nodded to himself and sighed.

“Think they’ll get back together?”

“Who knows.” Louis scratched his calf again. “I mean, Liam wants it obviously.”

“Love’s tough.” Niall said after a pause.

“Get ready for it.”

“Is there any way to prepare for it?”

“Nah. Love just knocks on your door one day and surprises you.” Louis shrugged.

“It’s not as painful as in the movies, right?” Niall inquired amusedly.

“Only if you fall for the wrong one.” Louis didn’t know if they were having a really deep conversation or were only wasting time by being very silly. “Just the way it is, you know?”

“Mhm… Should I console Liam somehow?”

“I don’t think much helps.” Louis could joke from dusk till dawn but Liam wouldn’t laugh once. He even tried to stay away from insulting anybody but himself with his jesting and still Liam would frown. “Zayn’s really putting up an effort though.”

“He is.” Niall opened his eyes, only to close them again.

“Perrie said she’d meet with Danielle too.”

“Girls always stick together.” Niall shifted his legs further apart. “Guys too, I suppose.”

“It’s only natural.” Louis hit his knee again.

“Natural…” Niall shook his head. “Well, procreation is natural.”

“Yeah, but I think none of us want kids yet.”

“Or any, ever.”

“You don’t want offspring?” Louis was so jittery, giddy – he scratched his calf again.

“No, I do, maybe.” Niall shook his head again. “You don’t.”

“Sure, I do. One day, in, like a hundred years from now.” Louis laughed.

“When they find the technology to get guys pregnant?” Niall disentangled his fingers and intertwined them again, differently this time.

“What?” Louis glanced over at Niall. A lengthy pause stretched between them and Louis scanned Niall’s profile.

“I saw.”

Louis made no assumptions, made no premature assumptions about what Niall had seen.

“You saw what?” He asked lightly, so aloofly. He didn’t care about the answer, didn’t need to know.

Niall opened his eyes and stared straight ahead blankly.

“I saw you and Harry fucking.” Niall didn’t move – he continued to stare straight ahead extremely blankly.

Louis hadn’t heard right.

“You saw what?” He asked again stupidly.

“Fuck.” Niall jumped up, grabbing the collar of his T-shirt with both hands. “I saw you and Harry. Don’t even try to pretend it didn’t happen.”

All Louis had done was  _pretend_  that it didn’t happen and he was struggling with not being able to pull off the pretending properly.

“I swear. If you fucking mess up my career, you are dead.”

New light shone on Niall – his calm exterior was broken and a new person with a visage twisted into a disgusting grimace paced angrily in front of Louis.

“That Harry’s spitting on all of us by coming out to the world – that’s the worst already. And that you and him are  _fucking_  is not going to work with me.” Niall was yelling but his voice wasn’t even that loud – it only rang inside of Louis’ head at the loudest volume possible.

“I always stand back and am cool with everything happening around me. So fucking cool. I just sit and watch you guys getting tattoos like the world is ending. Little girls don’t like tattoos – that’s what fucking  _studies_  show.” Niall spit on the wooden floor, then marched over to the window and back again. He looked like he wanted to punch his own face.

“Where is this coming from? If Harry knew about your –“ Louis sat still, was paralysed.

“What would he do if he knew of my fucking stance on things?!” Niall didn’t face Louis. “Nothing. He never does anything. He just takes it. He takes your shit every day and yet you’re still friends.”

Louis still didn’t move – he was struggling with what to say.

“No. I should say  _lovers_.” Niall spit on the floor again and even stepped on his own saliva this time.

“Are you fucking insane?” Louis managed to hiss after another lengthy pause.

“You’re crazy! We’re a fucking  _boyband_. Homo stuff has no place in our world!” Niall pointed a finger at Louis – his whole arm was shaking and Louis slowly felt life return to his own limbs.

“Only because you are a fucking arsehole, doesn’t mean I will stop doing what I want to do.” Louis got up and felt like he would fall over.

“Sure. Do what you want. But I won’t just sit still anymore.” Niall’s tone laced with even more malice and the threat was so terribly believable.

“Try to stop me.” Louis threw his arms up and strolled toward the exit. He left and Niall didn’t actually tackle him, didn’t stop him from leaving.

“If you destroy my life, I will destroy yours.” Niall’s shouting rang hollowly inside his head. It rang on and on – its ringing broke the seal on a secret chamber inside him.

Louis was struggling with a hard-on for what seemed like several days, what had felt like so many days already – he would now, thanks to being provoked and out of spite toward the ultra-knob Niall, go to the person responsible and do something about it.

He hoped Styles was up for it.

~

“You want to have sex with me.”

Harry was on his bed, with his head dangling off, upside down when Louis stormed through his apartment and to his room.

“You do.” Louis’ jeans were dirty – Harry could see lots of smudges from his viewing angle.

“And.” Louis took a deep breath before continuing. “And I don’t mind.”

Harry rolled over to lie on his stomach. He lifted his head up and met Louis’ eyes. There was a clear flash of trepidation before a fractured mask with a confident smirk fell onto Louis’ face like a veil.

“You’re really annoying. Are you aware of that?” Harry sat up and craned his neck to the left and to the right – joints’ cracking could be heard.

“You don’t mind.” Louis countered and Harry got up – he was sadly only in his boxers.

“I actually do.” Harry watched Louis bite his bottom lip and he let his gaze drop instinctively – Louis wasn’t supposed to notice, wasn’t supposed to know that Harry fancied him.

Louis rubbed his hands together and then wiped them on his shirt.

“You don’t mind.” He said and sounded exactly like a 5 year old who wanted to play with a kid who was too old for silly games.

Louis reached out to Harry and took his hand, prying Harry’s fingers out of the fist he had made. Nothing more happened – they stood in front of each other with Harry’s hand lying limply in Louis’. Harry looked at Louis’ shoes and didn’t know if he was the one trembling or Louis.

They stood and stood and stood and Harry couldn’t take the tension and looked up. Louis immediately looked away and moved his arm towards himself.

Harry didn’t think there’d be more to the movement but there was so much more because suddenly Louis pulled his arm further down and placed his hand palm-forward on Louis’ dick.

Harry swallowed down the words he meant to say and tried to get his hand away but Louis wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t let him escape to safety.

Louis was hard – Harry could feel that much and not less. Louis was hard and Harry’s hand was cupping that hardness.

“What is that?”

The most idiotic thing Harry had ever said. Ever.

“That’s my penis.” Louis met Harry’s gaze and was definitely struggling with suppressing the cheery laugh that haunted Harry’s nightmares.

But those were only dreams. This was as real as this world let reality become.

“You should know what a penis is. You like them. Remember?” Harry didn’t only remember – he was basically holding one in his hand. Only shabby denim material separated him from really touching cock.

“You’re not actually going to go through with this.” Harry rushed to say, to convey as Louis stepped closer. Here they were - the two of them. Alone.

“Sure I am.” Louis blew into Harry’s face and there was no way to conceal the shudder that raced across Harry’s whole body.

Harry had to make a decision. He had to make it quick. One could never truly predict how life would change after a single wrong turn but the same could be said about turning at the right crossing.

“No.” He gave himself a few more seconds before he made his life-altering decision. It wasn’t sufficient time to feel secure in raising his left hand and undoing the first, the highest button on Louis’ shirt but Harry did it anyway. “You’re not.”

Harry let his eyes travel down and he focused on his work. He let a button pop open, let his fingers trail down the exposed skin until he hit more of the light red material and let his gaze move up for a moment, let himself study Louis’ expression before undoing the next button.

“I am.” He made it through half when Louis released Harry’s right hand and dropped his own to his side uselessly. Harry put his freed one slowly onto Louis’ chest, pressed it flat over Louis’ heart. The shirt was still preventing skin touching skin but Louis’ mouth escaped a wistful sigh anyway.

Harry’s fingers slipped on a button and they stroked over Louis’ stomach in a consoling, caretaking manner. Louis gulped and Harry could tell he was preparing himself to speak, to spout something charmless.

“It’s rather refreshing. Having manly hands on me like this.” Louis’ voice was so quiet. Such a timid voice as if he was scared someone else might hear him, as if he was trying to exclude uninvited participants from their private exchange.

“Enough.  _Enough_.” Harry grabbed, tugged, ripped Louis’ shirt apart – buttons flew through the air. “Just shut up.” He swung, shoved Louis around and threw him on the bed.

His heart wasn’t devoid of emotions as he tore Louis’ clothes off, layer after layer. Not at all – his heart was full of the gruelling, hideous love that no one could understand. Not that the reason was of any importance.  _Why_  Harry loved Louis wasn’t a necessary piece of information for anyone to possess but  _how_  was.

Harry had loved Louis without ever having read the terms and conditions of use, loved Louis recklessly with his whole soul. It was innocent and pure but for the graphically mature descriptions his brain created for the bodily aspect of his love that he never thought would be fulfilled.

He could have never guessed that he would really crawl over his bed to get lube and a condom, could have never imagined that Louis would claw at his sheets with his face pressed into the mattress.

Harry stripped his boxers off and when he was about to remove Louis’, other hands rolled them over Louis’ arse. Harry pulled them down Louis’ legs completely and dropped them on the edge of the bed.

He could see the tenseness in every muscle of Louis’ body, could have made up the whimpering he heard though. He gave himself over to acting on his greedy desire instead of his somewhat manky brain.

With slimy, wet fingers he started opening Louis up. He moved boldly, deliberately and aimed directly, cautiously but became increasingly deafer from the deafening noise Louis was making.

“I was wrong.  _Fuck_. Fucking  _fuck_. I did wrong!” Louis’ shouting was muffled by the pillow with which he was wrestling. “I never meant to  _hurt_  you. I swear!”

When Harry came out to his family, they smiled and laughed with tears in their eyes. When Harry came out to his friends, they congratulated him on taking that long to tell them. When Harry came out to his band members, not many weeks had passed since they were put together as a group.

Liam had clapped and hugged Harry immediately – the warmth radiating from his friend was real and eased Harry’s terrible nervousness.

Niall had shrugged and continued zapping through channels on the telly. There was no change in his mood.

Zayn had attacked him, wanting to plant a kiss right on him but in the end, Harry had managed to evade the affectionate boy.

And Louis’ first reaction was to stare at him with shock-ridden eyes, before not talking to him for several days. When Louis stopped avoiding him, everything was just sort of different and it  _hurt_.

“Tomlinson.” Louis shut up instantly, stopped arching his back oddly.

Harry wiped his fingers on Louis’ side, moving upwards and massaging one shoulder sloppily before tearing the condom wrapping open. He was ready and protected in no time and with no time to spare to regain his ability to think, breathe or be himself.

Condom on and much guidance wasn’t needed – Harry’s dick wanted in and Louis allowed it.

His senses worked in the highest gear. He smelled skin that he had read about in fairy tales, tasted air that was sweeter than clouds, heard an allegro vivace tempo in his pulse, felt bodies react as echoes of each other.

Harry saw all of Louis as he pushed in – and maybe this was really the best penis to butt relation there could be. Maybe it wasn’t only Harry thinking that. Maybe others would agree that this combination was perfection.

Louis hit the bed with his fists wherever he could reach and Harry pulled out, leaving only his tip in. He rammed in, chucking all rationality out the window and grunted when it felt too good.

He knew only how to move in and out, knew only how to feel good. Louis’ sounds turned from yells to mewls, turned Harry on, spurred Harry on and he moved his hips up and down, out and in, faster.

Louis’ moans strengthened earth’s gravity and Harry found his chest glued to Louis’ back. Sweat caused their skin to smoothly rub together and Harry almost didn’t notice the new position Louis’ arm took.

Harry’s thrusts went from irregular to manic sans the depressive as Louis jerked himself off. It was bound to last longer, harder but Harry’s hands wandered, snuck under Louis’ body and traced tottery lines on his chest, making the older lad groan suddenly and deeply.

The space around Harry’s dick tightened even more and he came with a silent scream. He kept his manners even through his orgasm by pulling out, keeping his condom in place and filling it with his bliss.

Louis’ body turned over and Harry flung the condom off his penis. It landed wherever, whatever and Harry wished to know why, why, why  _this_  had just happened. The reason wasn’t at his disposal but he needed, needed, needed it as he lay beside Louis.

Their breathing was too rough, bodies were too drained and it really wasn’t right like this – he wanted to roll over and stare at Louis, guess from his smile if he had actually liked it, liked  _fucking_. He wanted to grin and lean over, kiss his neck and fall asleep happily.

“So that’s your style of lovemaking?” That was how Louis broke the spell, how the curse was lifted and Harry shifted his weight and sprang up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke. Sorry…“ 

He picked up a pair of boxers that had fallen to the floor. They weren’t his size or colour but he didn’t peel them off again because Louis’ apology meant  _shit_. Everything was just sort of shit.

“Where are you going?” Harry collected what he assumed were his clothes and his tattoos itched, tingled from Louis’ gaze being fixed on them.

“I’ve… I –“ He glanced back and Louis had covered himself with a blanket, sat upright on the bed with wide eyes. “I’m going to meet Grimmy.”

“Grimshaw?” Harry ignored the croak, crack in Louis’ voice.

“Yeah.” He waved awkwardly. “See … you.”

He rushed to get his trousers on whilst walking out, forgetting all of Louis’ sex reactions.

~

“I had sex with somebody and it was a huge mistake.”

“Good on you.” Grimmy rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you come in?”

Harry stepped past Grimmy. “Did you sleep off your hangover already?”

“Not really.” They walked to the kitchen – Grimmy grabbed a bag of crisps and they shared them silently.

Harry liked the atmosphere that surrounded both of them. Grimmy had dark bags under his eyes and he wondered if he looked just as bad.

“They won’t tell.” Grimmy spoke through his chewing.

“You don’t even know who  _they_  are.” Harry looked out of the window.

“I don’t need to.” Grimmy shrugged. “Don’t care as long as nobody’s harmed.”

Harry thought about that for a while.

“And as long as it was gay.” Grimmy added before laughing loudly.

Harry joined in immediately.

~

It was sunny outside.

And in Harry’s bed, Louis was crying.

~


	8. Round 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Louis couldn’t read Harry’s thoughts, couldn’t gauge from the position of his hair if he needed cheering up but he absolutely knew that once all this was over Harry would need a hug._

In the dressing room, Zayn couldn’t decide which top to wear and Louis’ hair was still being blow-dried. The press conference was less than an hour away.

Louis didn’t feel well – a storm was coming.

~

The secret announcement had attracted many journalists. There were domestic as well as international ones. Speculations were running high and low – only few guessed approximately correctly.

In the backstage area, Louis was standing with Liam, peeking out at the rows and rows of seats filled with hungry vultures. They would eat Harry alive, would bombard him with hundreds of intrusive questions and invasive comments.

Louis didn’t think Harry was ready for this. He wouldn’t handle the aftermath positively, would crumble under the amount of opinions.

Granted, Louis gave Harry too little credit – Harry was a very able young man. Harry was fit, had lots of friends and was about to tell the world the truth about his relationship with Grimshaw.

Nick wasn’t here but Louis didn’t doubt the radio presenter would issue a statement this very day. He would charmingly say that Harry’s always behind him, that his boyfriend is great in bed.

Louis heard a crewmember call out a one minute warning. He moved with the least amount of enthusiasm he could muster and went where another man was signalling him to go.

They were ordered to stand in a row, in a fixed line-up. Niall was first, followed by Harry, then Zayn. Louis would have liked more distance between himself and Harry but wasn’t offered the last place.

Someone hushed the audience and Louis didn’t feel like himself. He didn’t try to poke Liam in the ribs or attempt to get a piggyback ride from Zayn. He did nothing but stare at the back of Harry’s head.

Louis couldn’t read Harry’s thoughts, couldn’t gauge from the position of his hair if he needed cheering up but he absolutely knew that once all this was over Harry would need a hug.

And it shouldn’t be Liam or Zayn, definitely not Niall and not even Grimmy that should give Harry that hug. It was supposed to be Louis. It had to be Louis.

The curtain was drawn to the side and Niall was motioned to step forward. He didn’t do so though and turned around instead.

And said something to Harry.

Niall whispered into Harry’s ear and smirked at Louis, meeting his eyes past Zayn’s quiff. Niall’s smile widened and he patted Harry’s shoulder before spinning around and strolling onto the stage.

Louis had heart palpitations the strength of planets crashing together. Thunder and lightning exploded around him with the intensity of several world wars. He was on the brink of dropping into a pit, down an abyss full of insane dread and for a second he thought he would really fall when Liam shoved him.

He caught himself, regained his footing and his eyes readjusted, reclaimed sight of his surroundings. Zayn was looking down at his hunched form and he quickly straightened his spine, plastered a grin on his face and met the onslaught of cameras’ flashes.

Mikes were passed along and as soon as Louis had his in hand, his brain provided him with pictures of the dildo he had bought Harry, of the way it fit into his hand like it was made for him.

He glimpsed over at Harry – the youngest member of One Direction was trembling and even though he felt so horribly bad for Harry’s situation his mind went to quite good places. Louis’ mind made him remember  _that_  afternoon with such viciousness that Louis thought he might get erect on the spot.

He really thought he wouldn’t be able to stop his blood from rushing down when suddenly the hounds were unleashed, when the reporters were allowed to speak. Harry was trying to speak over them, to calm them and begin his speech but he just looked like he needed to be rescued, like he was drowning or dehydrated beyond help.

It felt like a raging storm had hit and Louis couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t be himself with Harry struggling like that. Harry’s gaze went left and right, everywhere and it halted on Niall for a moment too long, just too long so that Louis’ grip on his own microphone tightened.

“I –“ Louis started loudly, trumping the roar of the press and stopped again when Harry’s head swivelled over and their eyes met. With something worse than slow-motion Harry’s expression went from frighteningly fearful to completely confused.

“We –“ Louis didn’t know what words to utter but here he was, forcing his hand with the mike to stop from shaking and Harry’s mouth twitched, pushing Louis over the edge.

“I’m gay.”

Chaos followed.

~

Louis was brought to his home by a huge security team. He was locked in and told not to move a finger.

He didn’t. He lay on the floor, ignoring every vibration his mobile made. He had tossed it somewhere and it shook every few minutes with another message he didn’t want to get.

He lay on the floor and waited for something, perhaps for someone who just didn’t show up.

Perverted things went through his head and he was glad for them. Eventually the accusations, the self-doubt, the idiocy would hit him right in his stupid mouth anyway.

There was absolutely no logic behind most things he did and so it was better for all parties not to think about his actions, not to analyze them and draw dangerous conclusions from them.

Thus, he spent hours on the floor, pretending that things that had definitely happened, didn’t happen. He spent hours in the same foetal position until finally someone came.

The doorbell rang once only.

Louis rolled onto all fours and crawled to the door. He couldn’t keep his hands from shaking as he turned his key in the lock and let the door swing open.

He was still half-sitting, unable to get up when feet moved past him swiftly. Louis wondered for a brief moment whether he was invisible, maybe a ghost as Harry simply ignored him by stomping past him.

“Why did you do that?” Harry had walked far out of Louis’ reach and nobody could hug anybody.

“Why?!” Harry’s face was twisted into a grimace of grief – at least not anger, Louis noted sombrely. He had told the world that he was gay. And he wasn’t. Harry was and Louis wasn’t - he had to remind himself, recall dully.

“I tried – I was trying to save you.” Louis leaned his body against a wall but the world still felt like it was spinning. He had tried to do the right thing for once. He had tried but had failed. He had acted before his brain could even react.

“I don’t need your protection.” Harry was clutching his forehead. He looked incredibly exhausted.

“Yes, you did.” Louis muttered. “You should be thankful.”

“You want me to thank you?” Harry let both his hands drop to his sides. “You messed everything up. Do you not understand what you did?”

“I helped a friend.” Louis still didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to face the aftermath of his doing.

“You fucked up my life!” Harry yelled and the wall Louis was supporting himself on trembled. “I just spent hours – everyone spent hours cleaning up your crap.”

Louis got dizzier and he crossed his arms in aggressive defence - Harry didn’t look him in the eyes.

“You could have continued making out with Grimshaw in the closet.” It was his stupid mouth. He really didn’t mean to be such a shameful human being. Harry had chosen Grimmy as his soulmate. They were together and Louis had no right to jest about it, to behave so rudely. 

“What the fuck are you… no.“ Harry stared at the ceiling. “I don’t fucking care.” With large strides Harry approached the exit again.

“Where are you going?” Everything was happening too fast – he was gay to the world now and Harry was leaving already. Louis wanted to hang onto Harry’s arm, wanted to keep him here. “Where are you going to?”

Harry paused in his step just as he was about to pass Louis. He was looking at the floor, looking exactly at the spot Louis had occupied just minutes ago.

“Why do I have to tell you?” Everything was happening too fast – he had to tell Harry the truth. He had to tell Harry that he needed a hug.

“Don’t I deserve to know?” It came out wrong again. Louis bit his lip in exasperation with himself. He sounded like a bird that was too clingy after a one night stand. Pretty exactly like that.

“Are you meeting Grimmy?” It was all wrong. Louis sounded even more like that ex-girlfriend that couldn’t let go, that was still heels over head in love.

Harry’s fists were clenched and Louis wanted to take one of those hands and ease the pressure by squeezing it lightly – but images of  _that_  afternoon sprang vigorously up and down inside Louis’ skull, of Louis taking Harry’s hand and putting it on his own dick. 

“I’m not, no.” Harry said harshly into the charged air between them. “I don’t get you. I really don’t.” Harry turned, after all this time turned and met Louis’ eyes.

“Me either.” Louis muttered automatically, reflexively as Harry sighed.

“I wish I could turn back time.” Harry spoke the words so carelessly but Louis’ whole life was determined by regrets, by his inability of travelling back in time and redoing his past mistakes. “I’ll go now.” 

Suddenly Louis remembered the most important detail, that little detail that had probably ruined his entire life forever.

“What did Niall say to you before the - ?” Louis went to grab Harry’s arm but Harry evaded the touch easily. “What did he say?”

Harry studied Louis’ whole face for a second, only one second though before rolling his eyes and smiling sadly.

“He said you had sex with me…” Harry’s gaze stayed on Louis’ lips, stayed there and Louis noticed, didn’t just make it up. “You had sex with me because of a bet you made with him.”

“No.” Louis blurted out automatically, reflexively. Harry’s face became a grimace of grief again and Louis didn’t understand the world that also didn’t understand him. Nobody seemed to understand anyone.

“It’s not true!” Louis had wanted to comfort Harry, had wanted to hug him until his arms were sore but now that Louis was  _out_  instead of Harry, he didn’t get what he would have given. “It’s not! I swear!”

“I don’t care.” Harry shook his head, and swiped his fingers through his fringe. “I can’t.”

Louis wanted 7 billion explanations, wanted to know why Harry couldn’t care. He had so many questions but there was no one to answer them.

“Okay. Yeah.” It was with uttermost reluctance that Louis gave up on the notion of holding onto Harry, of finding out the reason he had sex with Harry. “Go.”

Harry disappeared immediately.

~

Louis didn’t have a lot of answers a week later.

He had been prohibited from reading the news, going on the internet and stepping outside. All his sources to find information, to research his pathetic state were taken from him.

There weren’t even 3 things he knew after a week of musing in solitude – there was one. Only one thing of which he was sure.

Karma was gay.

~

He was kind of back to his basics.

He had been summoned by the head of their label and Harry had appeared as well. It was well over a week since the incident that had followed  _that_  afternoon.

And Louis was back to his old form.

He was eating grapes and they looked like little tits to him. He ate them very bemusedly. Harry was sitting two chairs away from him, scrolling on his phone.

“Catch.” Louis shot out abruptly and threw a grape at Harry. It hit him on the cheek and Louis laughed as Harry’s face fell and the fruit dropped into his lap.

“Aim properly.” Harry mumbled as flicked the grape from his leg onto the floor and Louis almost thought of Harry’s dick aiming at his backside.

Louis threw another grape – Harry caught it and chewed like a cow.

“Good job, queer boy.” It slipped out and Louis wanted to rip his lips off. One might think he was a homophobic cunt that wanted to destroy their friendship on purpose. 

“Same to you.” Harry swallowed and grinned tentatively. “Your blow-job was homo-licious.”

Very slowly, Louis blinked and Harry shrugged, pocketing his mobile. Louis was sure he didn’t have sex with Harry because of  _wanting_  this guy on him, but because Niall had behaved like a proper arsehole and provoked him to prove how far he’d go in his friendship with Harry, how much better than Niall he was. Every time Louis told himself that, the excuse made less sense. 

Louis threw another grape – it landed right in Harry’s open mouth. Harry smiled like a proud child who had just bested his peers. Louis had missed that smile.

Another grape – it flew in a high but short arc. Harry caught it perfectly by leaning forward. He grinned like the kid who was praised by their parents for climbing a tree or building a Lego house. Louis had missed that grin.

The next grape was too high so Harry had to jump up to catch it and Louis knew the old him would go in for the kill now, would do something only for the thrill.

Louis leapt forward, pressing his lips against Harry’s.

Harry took one of Louis’ hands and squeezed it hard before stepping away and sitting down again.

~

Harry wouldn’t kiss Louis.

He wouldn’t kiss Louis because it might get to be a habit.

And Harry was really quite horrible at getting rid of his bad habits, of his addiction to Louis.

~


	9. Round 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Louis was wiggling his bottom right now, because he knew Harry was watching, because he loved being stupid. Harry smiled – everyone had assured Harry that Louis was back to normal. He should just believe them._

They were having a ball.

Their music label was holding an LGBT-themed ball in honour of Louis Tomlinson’s public coming out.

It was indeed a colourful celebration. Rainbows hung from the ceilings and guests from all around the world were in attendance. Many speeches were held and everyone wore clothes fancier than for the Oscars.

Amongst the women some made a statement by wearing a suit - what that actual statement was only few of them knew. They did what would put them in the best light on the red carpet. And cross-dressing was always liked.

Some men even wore dresses – just for the gimmick of eccentricity and not as admittance of enjoying role-playing in their bedrooms.

Harry was given what he had to wear. He had no free will at all anymore and One Direction was costumed as a colour palette this evening. The paparazzi got wonderful pictures of them lined up – green, orange, pink, blue and red.

There wasn’t much of an explanation. Liam tried making sense of it - he probably got blue because he was the serious one or was literally blue from his breakup, and Zayn’s blond streak was sort of orange in the right light. And pink was the gay colour of choice, of course. Louis wore it excellently.

Nobody from their PR had the time to tell them what the exact, real thought process behind each colour was though. Everyone was working their arses off trying to clean up the pandemonium Louis had created, caused.

It was close to a week since they had been invited to a discussion with the head of their music label, since the next steps that had to be taken were explained to them - and Louis was back to his ignorant self. That had to be a front though. Harry just knew that it had to be a front, a facade Louis put up in order to protect himself.

At least that was what Harry  _had to_  assume. If he believed what everyone was telling him, then Louis was the biggest gobshite alive, who singlehandedly had destroyed Harry’s chances of being truthful with the world. If he believed them, then Louis had simply done it for the thrill of messing with Harry.

Louis couldn’t really be that awful though. One could argue that he only answered all questions asked him with earlier provided monologues written by their management, that he only did as he was told in order to not utterly  _ruin_  his own reputation. His image was entirely  _tainted_  by his fake-homosexuality already but one could argue that he was trying to save face by properly completing all the tasks PR gave him.

Harry couldn’t really counterattack in this case. It wasn’t his battle anymore. He was being pulled away, withdrawn from Louis. One gay boybander out of five was bad enough for the label. 40% queer was too financially impacting. Two gay boybanders would be the fatal blow to kill, bloodily murder everything for which they had worked so hard.

Especially if there was some history in the making between the two gays. Harry shook his head and swiped his thumb through his fringe. One gay and one first class knob, he corrected himself.

Rumours between them had always existed, had always prevailed against their label’s attempts at quieting them but those voices had to be quenched now that things had got this way.

PR was strict, extremely serious about it. Harry was specifically tasked with avoiding, really evading Louis. They weren’t supposed to see each other privately, much less be seen together outsides. Be it just the two of them or with a larger group of people, the label had prohibited it all.

And they had actually already prevented Harry from meeting Louis. They had used force and hadn’t allowed him even one last visit, one last opportunity to talk some sense into Louis, to figure him out, to understand the enigma that occupied Harry’s mind day and night, that had him up in the clouds when he should be feeling low, and that had him feeling like he was already dead when he should be feeling good.

Harry sighed. Louis always left him strikingly confused but cunningly satisfied and definitely wanting more – and all he had to do was wiggle his bottom.

Louis was wiggling his bottom right now, because he knew Harry was watching, because he loved being stupid. Harry smiled – everyone had assured Harry that Louis was back to normal. He should just believe them.

“Where’s Lou?” Harry turned around and was met with one of the girls that usually scheduled One Direction’s girlfriends’ appearances. A small bloke was in her company. He was short, very skinny and his face reminded Harry of a fruit or flower.

“She’s upstairs. With -“

“No.  _Tomlinson_.” The girl hissed and clicked her tongue. Harry wasn’t impressed by her behaviour and raised his eyebrows, glancing back and forth between the two that had disturbed his conversation with a beer bottle.

“Back there.” He pointed with a nod and wondered why she wasn’t busying herself with other matters or why she was here at all. Perrie wasn’t even attending the event and Eleanor was officially presented as  _the beard_  now – Harry didn’t care for the details of the tale that their PR spun, of the thickening web of lies that told of El having been paid since the beginning, that explained that she was never a real girlfriend.

All Harry knew for certain though was that El was Louis’ dirty secret and they were only permitted to talk over the phone. Harry wasn’t even allowed that much - he hoped Louis knew that though and didn’t assume Harry had lost all interest in him, hoped that Louis didn’t behave like a dick again because of that.

“Thank you.” The girl rubbed her hands together and Harry took one last look at the boy she pulled away with her. His nerves were spread thinly across his pale face and Harry wanted to grab one of his shoulders and help cease his trembling.

Harry didn’t though and took another sip from his warm beer. He waved through the crowded ballroom and got the attention of one of the waiters who bowed a tad in understanding. Ordering another beer was that easy. Ordering a new love interest was extraordinarily hard.

It wasn’t like he didn’t look absolutely dashing in his green suit. It complimented his eyes and everything. He would take himself if he were someone else. Bloody hell, he would take himself for all shitty eternity. 

The beer arrived and Harry spilled it a little when he took it from the waiter’s tray. He wouldn’t have guessed himself to be that tipsy already but his unsteadiness increased and a cold touch seemed to settle against the back of his neck.

An odd touch of foreboding pulled at his heartstrings and he spun his body around, expecting a grotesque monster leering at him. There wasn’t one though and he felt like he was suffocating in the sea of people surrounding him, like they were strangling him with invisible devises, like someone had poisoned his drink.

Harry gripped at the collar of his white shirt and wiped his hand downwards, flattening the creases in the dark material. He stepped to the side with one foot, widening his stance and regained a bit of balance, even with the fat sheen of smoke and chitter-chatter hanging before his eyes.

He drank from his beer, taking more gulps than he could swallow and a trickle escaped his mouth. To anyone watching, it might look like he was drooling over someone’s dress ripping but for him, it was the washing down of a layer of dirt that had clung to his tongue like a red herring. 

And then he spotted Louis through the throng of people again.

With the tiny lad right next to him. The shudder that Harry had managed to keep at bay, rolled down his back ferociously, so furiously and his uneasiness was justified, warranted by what lay before him.

If the press here present mistook the guy as Louis’ date, as them dating – if only one person made that assumption, One Direction’s management got exactly what they wanted.

Louis smiled at  _his boyfriend_  and Harry hadn’t known jealousy until that moment.

~

Louis smiled at the cover-up that PR had chosen for him.

It was a nice setup, he tried to convince himself. They really couldn’t have got anyone more girly.

~

Harry sat down on a lonely chair he found and unlocked his phone. He opened the browser and typed the three most important words of his life into the search bar. He couldn’t help himself. He had to.

The results google offered him were horrendous. He inhaled sharply at the terrible articles written and the awful comments made.

Harry didn’t know why he did this to himself. He couldn’t even imagine worse things than what he was now reading on the internet. Not in his wildest nightmares would he have been able to come up with such appalling, alarming thoughts that apparently filled the minds of other human beings.

He looked up from his touchscreen and Louis was laughing, enjoying himself. It couldn’t be that Harry was the only one biting back tears. Louis wasn’t brave enough for this.

Harry didn’t want to pretend to be a superhero or a knight in shining armour, didn’t want to swoop in and save Louis from himself but he had to. He had to because Louis wouldn’t save himself. 

He slid his mobile into his pocket, making sure it wasn’t positioned in a way that looked like he was too happy about seeing someone and got up.

He stood up shakily and it was like all the lights were on him all of a sudden. He felt their heated glare on every part of his skin as he started walking. The floor was like quicksand and the echoes of all the warnings he had ever received tried to prevent him from what he was about to do.

With 12, his mother jokingly told him not to fall for a bad boy. With 14, his classmate comfortingly told him not to fall for an older guy. With 16, his band member brotherly told him not to fall for a straight lad.

And with 18, his music label told him to no longer to be close with Louis. To keep his distance. To not be associated with the  _gay one_.

Harry dragged his feet forward, navigating through the masses. He had to because his three most important words shouldn’t awake such a cruel reaction amongst the public.

The words  _louis tomlinson gay_  shouldn’t be that wrong.

~

Louis was astonished by the fact that even his voice sounded girly. PR really went all in with this one. Positively making sure that Louis’ type was the opposite of any of his band members.

Naturally, the short, straight hair reminded nobody of Styles.

~

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand, pulling him away from the object of his supposedly desires.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked with light humour in his voice.

It was neither of their fortes but Harry swung Louis’ body, crashing him against his chest on the dance floor for a waltz. For an amazing instant the world was still and Harry had Louis in his arms, had him where he belonged.

Harry took a tentative step and another, guiding Louis in simple circles. He had his right hand slightly beneath Louis’ shoulder blade, in the most un-sexual place findable on Louis’ back. It dipped lower, wandered further with every step. His right arm was held at a 90 degree angle from his body and his left arm was raised so that Louis’ hand could rest lightly in his.

His densely inked arm was bound to Louis’.

In turn, Louis put his left hand comfortably near Harry’s right shoulder, providing pressure with his fingers to better follow Harry’s lead. He didn’t look past his head though but decisively met Harry’s eyes. The intimacy was palpable with every time their fronts collided.

“Like him?” Harry finally managed apprehensively. Louis smirked and clasped Harry‘s hand more tightly.

“His name is  _Gage_.” Just a whisper, a breath against Harry’s face.

“Doesn’t seem your type.” Harry spoke despite his growing difficulty. Obviously Louis would prefer someone with tits over balls, Harry scolded himself mentally.

“He  _is_  not quite my type.” Louis continued with a flirty tone, twisting his body away and twirling himself with his hand still connected to Harry’s.

“Then tell them to get you someone more feminine.” Harry blurted out, gasped as Louis fell against him again.

“Maybe I should tell them to get me someone…” Louis paused and dropped his gaze to Harry’s mouth. “Someone stronger, taller and  _manlier_.”

Harry had no idea what was going on in Louis’ head. He couldn’t fathom the reasons why Louis was torturing him with his teasing. The incident with the grapes was tasking enough for this lifetime and all others that followed.

“Stop it.” Harry tried to get some distance from Louis, attempted at pushing him away with his knee. “It’s not funny.”

“You know what…” Louis moved his leg inwards and promptly pressed it into Harry’s crotch. “How about  _no_.”

Mischief was openly displayed on Louis’ face and Harry begged for a miracle, for a random bird to attack them, for something that would hinder their relationship from further complicating. He couldn’t cope with Louis playing games that had no rules nor score, couldn’t deal with Louis playing with his life, with acting like his life was a lame joke.

“Rip my rectum apart.” Harry tripped over his own foot and they stopped their half-hearted dance.

“Impale me,  _Harry._ ” Louis rubbed his upper leg in between Harry’s thighs. It was like Louis was this weird mix of hot and poetic that would inevitably be Harry’s demise. He thoroughly believed that his blood would be spilled by Louis’ doing.

“Stop.” Was all that dropped from his dry lips and it wasn’t sufficient in blocking the blindsiding energy that Louis possessed.

“Nobody’s forcing you to take advantage of me.” Louis leaned in, closer and mumbled the words against Harry’s cheek. His lips brushed against Harry’s skin with every syllable and Louis might be back to normal but that didn’t explain anything for Harry.

Every touch was unnecessary.

Harry untangled Louis from himself and he looked every teeny, tiny bit perfectly kissable.

And only because the sun burned his eyes, didn’t mean he would die.

~

“I’m so blue-ue-ue.  _Blue-ue-ue_!”

Louis heard Liam’s singing come from the toilet stalls. He wasn’t in the mood to find his friend though – it would only disturb what looked like a blowjob happening in one of them. Bright trousers kneeled in front of a pair of standing legs.

He had a problem of his own downstairs and only because the bitch, which had earlier endowed him with Gage, had yanked him away from a potential snog, didn’t mean others couldn’t have a night of fun.

Louis splashed some water onto his face, failing at removing the flush from his skin and also not succeeding in reminding himself that he didn’t want to kiss Harry.

~


	10. Round 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He wasn’t interested in analysing what had happened, what didn’t happen and what might have happened. He wasn’t even interested in not being interested. “Fuck everything.”_

Harry had to kiss a girl.

He deserved it.

He had been completely and utterly out of his mind and body and soul at the ball - he didn’t deserve any better than being forced to kiss a girl.

~

Louis heard a vibration.

His phone was buried somewhere under the pink oddity that had been his attire for last night. He was curled up under his covers, shivering slightly because of a sneaky draught.

He rubbed his face into the mattress and flipped his body over, clinging onto the pillow he was holding. One of his eyes slowly opened. He had been treated like a pig being brought to the slaughterhouse, had been presented to the public as some kind of prized animal.

He squinted at his alarm clock. It was a Pokéball – a gift from the time when One Direction was actively promoting Nintendo, when he was younger, when life was slightly different. The digits blinked in a dull red and Louis did a double take, triple take when he didn’t immediately comprehend what the number 16 meant.

Louis had slept till 4 pm.

He groaned and kicked the blanket off of himself. It slid down the side of his bed and he stretched from his legs to his neck, hearing joints crack along his spine. A yawn pulled his face apart and it was not understandable how Liam could have been so joyful yesterday. Zayn must have done something that somehow brought some happiness to Liam’s broken heart.

Louis waltzed himself off his bed and landed softly on his blanket. He grabbed for a pair of boxers on the floor but decided he might as well wear new ones. With as little effort as possible he crawled, dragged himself to his underwear drawers. His room was a real, real mess – sleeping at Harry’s was so much more pleasant than staying in this pig’s nest.

His foot got tangled in a web of cables and he shook his leg, trying to get free. He accidentally came in contact with a pile of boxes and they tumbled down, spilling their contents everywhere.

Louis sighed and ceased moving for a tense moment. His thoughts screamed loudly within the confinement of his skull but they were met with deaf ears. He wasn’t interested in analysing what had happened, what didn’t happen and what might have happened. He wasn’t even interested in not being interested.

“Fuck everything.” Louis blindly grabbed for his phone. His hand dug through heaps of clothing desperately. He pushed aside shoes and beanies until he was finally able to retrieve the device without which a human wouldn’t be able to survive a single day anymore.

There were 2 messages waiting for him.

One from El. One not from his contacts.

El wrote about scheduling their next date. Totally normal for couples to plan their meetings. Absolutely wonderful to suck away the spontaneous fun out of a relationship.

The other text spoke less romantically and Louis’ already sour mood turned extremely foul.

Harry would kiss a girl?

Louis laughed out loud, laughed loudly like a crazy fool amidst the chaos of his room, of his life. Harry was being set up with a _female_.

They would kiss whilst being photographed. It’d be a perfect publicity stunt. Any of yesterday’s rumours of Harry playing for the other team, of playing with Louis would be squashed like a hammer crushing flies, like a wolf tearing apart innocent creatures.

Louis laughed again and let the chuckles curl from his throat until he was out of breath. It made no sense that Harry was being punished when Louis felt sick deep within his chest, felt like the truth was that he was the one in the wrong, felt like he was the predator in sheep’s clothing.

The solution, the only real option he had in this situation, came to him in a blistering flash. He sprang up and dashed into his living room. His feet hit the cold floorboards with angry thuds. He twisted and twirled his body to evade ramming into anything in his path.

It wasn’t easy to sidestep at the speed with which he was moving but the dark future that lay ahead was so hot against the back of his neck. He ran through another room and almost bumped into an armchair.

He forced his body to swing to the left and readied himself, grasping for the backrest. For a moment he thought he hadn’t touched it properly and would fall. His hand did make contact with the plush edge and he tensed all his muscles as he flung himself over the chair, landing in a roll.

It wasn’t like he was light as a feather. No one was. He was simply a little bit athletic and that made it possible for him to defy gravity that little bit.

He pushed himself into an upright position again but nearly stumbled. Luckily, with much difficulty he was still able to use his momentum to sprint forward. His front door was right ahead of him and he ripped it open, racing outside.

His body swooshed down the flight of stairs that lay beyond it and suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Louis lowered his head, huffed and puffed and pouted all the way back to his bedroom. Society let him sleep freely but he couldn’t strut through all of England in the nude.

~

“Yes?”

The door was closed and Louis regretted coming here already.

Grimmy stared at him questioningly. Louis battled a blackout of his brain as he tried to find the words to save Harry. He couldn’t let the poor boy be used like that. He had to bring a stop to this nonsense.

“Yes?” Grimmy asked again, traces of annoyance clearly showing on his face already. For privacy reasons, he had led them to this storage room.

“Harry ...” Louis moved his mouth but no more sounds came out of him.

“What about Harry?” Nick asked in a tone that reminded Louis of his kindergarten teacher. The irrational anger flared up again quickly and his tongue loosened. It crossed his mind that he should take moment to calm down but his aggression skipped over those necessary steps and provided him with profane spitefulness. 

“Your loser boyfriend’s got to kiss a girl. I suggest you prevent that or you’ll have to deal with a weird taste in his mouth for months.” He spit out and ignored the warning bells that rang inside his skull.

Grimshaw had closed his eyes and looked like someone had just insulted the size of his penis. His head swayed slightly from side to side and he knit his brows strongly.

“Stop him. Won’t feel good to get fucked by him if there’s pictures of him with a beautiful girl everywhere.” Louis followed up and imagining all the newspapers with Harry lip locked to some woman, made Louis want to projectile vomit all over the queen.

“Why are you like this?” Grimmy said very quietly - Louis almost considered it a hiss. “What did I ever do to you?”

Louis didn’t know. He really didn’t know.

“I’ve said it over and over again. I’ve told you so often that I’m not with Harry.” Grimmy swiped a hand through his hair and breathed out heavily.

“I’ve never been with him. I’m like his goofy uncle.” Louis wanted to laugh bitterly and say something about incest but a forceful kick from his common sense made him keep his mouth shut.

“You’re incredibly rude when you want to be.” Nick shook his head sadly and he seemed to grow taller and taller, making Louis feel even smaller and smaller. “I pray you get over your jealousy soon because Harry will never _like_ someone like you.”

Louis didn’t want to ponder about the meanings of those words. Grimshaw left the room and Louis reacted hastily.

“Wait.” It wasn’t like Louis owed Grimshaw anything. It wasn’t like he had to apologize for anything. “You asked why I’m like this.”

Grimmy turned around with a fake smile plastered on his face and Louis would give him this one thing, would allow him to see his true colours this once.

“I always feel like the worst, so I act like the best.”

That was all Louis choked out before exiting the radio station with a pained heart.

The truth always hurt a little.

~

He decided to watch porn.

There was nothing for him to do but wait for Grimshaw to save the day. He couldn’t go on the internet because reading all the wrong things about himself wouldn’t heighten his spirit and he couldn’t go because there's wasn't anywhere he could go.

He clicked on the first lesbian video he could find. It promised 20 minutes of pleasure and he liked notion of that.

Wanking to mindless pornography was nice. It soothed the soul to just let go of everything, to just sit with his hand on his dick. Just playing with himself. It was a familiar feeling, much like brushing his teeth or tying his shoelaces. It should belong in the routine of every single person.

Louis flexed his arm muscles, trying not to get tired from masturbating. The women in the video were going at it like crazy but he just wasn’t in the right groove.

In this very minute Harry could be snogging the life out of a bird. Or two. PR had probably chosen someone with an hourglass figure and a perfect nose.

Maybe Harry had run away though. Maybe he was on his way to Louis’. The door could open at any moment. Harry would storm in and would see Louis.

Perhaps Harry would blush. Perhaps Harry would gasp and stare. Harry liked cock after all. Harry might beg Louis to let him suck his cock. Or fuck him.

One of the girls in the video came and Louis just wasn’t feeling it. He turned his laptop off and went back to bed.

~

Harry got up from his chair and turned to meet his soon-to-be.

“A... Alia?”

“Yep.” She was dressed in casual wear today - skinny jeans, a wide shirt, purple Converse. Her gigantic glasses weren’t missing and her hair glimmered prettily.

“You’re...?” Harry’s eyes flitted to the cameras that were already in position to shoot them. The lights were too strong and they illuminated every corner of the tent to which he had been brought, in which he was held captive.

“It’s all quite awkward, isn’t it?” She laughed or giggled and stroked a finger through her hair, putting some of it behind her ear.

Harry realized that his label had planned this setup for a long time. He realized that there was more than one truth, that there were many complicated truths. “How much do they pay you?”

“Oh, you’re just – making this more awkward.” She stuttered and she didn’t quite look like she was basking in the spotlights anymore. “I was – told I’m your type.”

She lowered her gaze and focused on the floor very intently. “It took all my courage to talk to you at the party, you know.”

She was being sincere - he heard it in the quiver in her voice. He had misjudged her several times. He didn’t know her story – he shouldn’t think of her as a villainess. He wasn’t better than anyone judging him.

“I’m sorry.” She looked up again at his words and there might have been tears in her eyes. “But you were informed wrongly about me.”

“I think there’s some kind of misunderstanding between us.” She turned her head away and rubbed something off of her face. “Is so weird because I just wrote a song about you.”

She laughed or giggled and stroked a finger through her hair again, putting some of it behind her ear again. “It’s a song about being misunderstood by the world. And really underappreciated.”

Alia met Harry’s eyes again. “I sang it in front of, like 500 people.”

Harry was aphasic. This girl had no idea that he was gay or that she was to be used as a beard. She was a wonderful human being and she deserved so much better.

"I'm more of a Louis-girl anyway." Her laugh or giggle got stuck in her throat and she readjusted her glasses with a shaking hand. 

“You deserve someone who will sing a song about you in front of, like 500 people.” Harry stepped towards her and was about to hug her when there was a rustling noise.

“Hold on!”

Both Harry and Alia turned and stared at the person who was intervening with their happily ever after. “What are you doing here?”

~

Louis let out a sigh. He didn’t know if it was out of relief or just a sigh. One could sigh just for the sake of sighing.

“Yeah. Girl with a baby – her friend from that hipster party. She told Alia not to do it.”

Zayn nodded with his eyes closed. They were all gathered in a lounge of their label’s building. No more PR games would be played for a while – the head of their management had told them that. Too many unexpected troubles arose.

“Alia’s really lovely.” Louis glanced at Niall. He looked like he wasn’t thinking of anything at all but Louis didn’t buy it.

“You never get to snog anybody.” Liam got up, carefully putting his laptop back into its bag. He didn’t sound like he needed to kiss anyone, sounded like he wasn't mourning his breakup anymore.

“It’s a real curse.” Harry stood in front of Louis, eyeing him with his hands in his pockets. “Mind if I sit?”

“I don’t care.” Louis shrugged and crossed his arms, effectively putting a barrier up around himself. He pinched both his elbows when Harry sat down, when his mind exploded with painful thoughts.

There’s a little truth behind every _just kidding_.

Niall threw a ball against the wall. It bounced back - he caught it and threw it again.

A little curiosity behind every _just wondering_.

Liam interfered and snatched the toy out of the air, throwing it to Zayn, who completely ignored it as it hit his chest.

A little knowledge behind every _I don’t know_.

The ball rolled down Zayn’s body, onto the floor and Harry picked it up, offering it to Louis with a smile spreading his mouth sweetly.

And a little emotion behind every _I don’t care_.

Instead of taking the ball, Louis was taken by the distorted sunset reflected in Harry’s eyes.

~


	11. Round 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry wanted to ignore the mumbles and pretend that he was alone, that he didn’t have any thoughts of taking advantage of the guy next to him.  
>  Harry still really wanted to get into Louis._

“Why?”

“Because it’s booked. Because we booked it months ago... Because it’s a stress releaser, because it’s...”

Harry waited for Liam to say more. He took a sip of his tea, sure in his decision of not abiding Liam’s wishes.

“I know it sounds crazy and that it’ll remind me of her but she won’t be there, so I’ll be reminded that - she’s not here and ... and it’s a weekend of freedom from the world.” Liam looked desperate.

“And why me?” Harry wasn’t interested in spending time on a triple date - driving to a spa outside of London sounded rightfully awful.

“You’re like my brother. It’ll be fun!” Liam had planned a romantic getaway for 6 when he was still deeply involved with Danielle.

“Zayn’s going. Louis’ going. It’ll be great.” Liam looked at the ceiling. “Think of the massages!”

“Can‘t you just cancel your reservation. The other four can still –“

“Harry. Please, I’m begging you.” Liam met Harry’s eyes and he couldn’t tell if it was grief or strength that flickered there weakly. “Don’t make me look more pathetic than I feel. If she finds out, and she will, that I didn’t go, she’ll think I’m still... and I do. I still love her and I can’t – I’m not allowed to.”

Harry knew what it was like to love someone he couldn’t love. He understood that well enough. But aiding Liam in fleeing the city, in leaving his troubles behind would mean that Harry was stuck with his.

“Please, and I promise you it’ll be relaxing and ...”

Liam wanted to get over Danielle – he was much closer to healing than Harry was. Harry still really wanted to get into Louis.

~

They took off on Friday afternoon with Harry’s Range Rover. Liam insisted on driving and Zayn sat next to him in the front, easing his loneliness or disrupting his peace. Harry didn’t know.

Perrie was sat behind Zayn, stroking his hair in an attempt to gain his attention whilst texting someone else.

Louis had Eleanor in his lap and they spent the ride loudly chatting about things that forced Harry to increase the volume of his Ipod to the maximum. It was easy enough to block out the loving words but not so Louis’ leg. It was tightly pressed against Harry’s for several hours and whenever Harry tried to move it away, Louis’ would follow, would stick to him like glue.

When he got out of the car, Harry thought he would feel the imprint of that touch for years but it disappeared quickly, leaving not even an annoying tingle.

~

Harry raided the mini bar of his and Liam’s room. He got drunk by himself and fell asleep a little before midnight.

A shove woke him up and Harry couldn’t prevent Louis from climbing under the covers.

“Liam’s in Zayn’s room and Perrie went to bed with El - and they threw me out.” Harry wanted to ignore the mumbles and pretend that he was alone, that he didn’t have any thoughts of taking advantage of the guy next to him.

“I couldn’t decide if yours was a good idea.” Louis said into the night and Harry shifted away from his friend’s warmth, agreeing that it was the worst idea to share a heart-shaped bed.

~

One could only get couples’ massage.

Harry bit his teeth together as the masseuse practically broke his spine with her knuckles. She didn’t knead his muscles but literally tore through them with her stony fingers. He had never felt as stressed before.

Louis moaned on the other torture table. That bastard had got lucky again - Louis’ masseuse seemed to want to earn the Nobel Prize in relaxation.

“Fuck!” Harry screamed as his newfound nemesis dug her thumbs into his lower back. She pushed at his skin, dragging them upward and as he tried to get up, she grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down again.

It felt like blood was leaking from his eyes. He couldn’t handle this agony. Louis moaned again – he sounded like he was on some heavenly cloud, like clouds were enveloping him in their comfy embrace.

Liam didn’t want to get a massage with Harry – he said he only trusted his personal masseur. Louis immediately jumped in and offered himself selflessly to join Harry instead. It was like one of those horror movies that quickly escalated from being worse to a zombie apocalypse.

“30 minutes. Done.” Louis’ masseuse tapped up and down Louis’ back softly and Harry’s slapped her palms on his back forcefully.

The curtain surrounding them was drawn open and slowly closed again. Harry didn’t know if he had it in him to sit up already or ever again.

Cracks that reminded Harry of tectonic plates breaking apart resounded from his body as he carefully lifted himself off the massage table. He wiped his eyes and readjusted his hair. He finally dared to check on Louis.

Louis had flipped his position and was now lying on his back – his towel was barely hanging onto his hips. Some of the oil that had been used for the massage had trickled onto his chest and Harry’s eyes traced the wet lines. One drop had bumped directly into Louis’ nipple and Harry fully got up, ready to call it a day, week or month. The longer, the better - he needed rest. Or sex.

“I want more.” Louis put a hand on his stomach and smeared it upward, sighing. Harry couldn’t watch this. “Gimme more.”

Harry wasn’t going to do Louis’ bidding. Harry wasn’t a slave to the person who held his heart, who didn’t understand his heart.

“Come on.” Louis rolled over, lying on his left side. He angled one leg up dangerously . “Do me.”

Harry came a little.

The right answer was _no_. The right answer was at the tip of his tongue but another tip of his was acting up, scratching against the towel he would gladly lose, he would love to throw in.

He approached Louis with no rush and Louis didn’t rush to turn over either. It was as if they were in accord with each other, as if they’d come to an agreement that benefited them both.

Harry’s hands found themselves on Louis’ shoulders and he squeezed. Just to test what would happen - he squeezed hard and Louis arched his back slightly but made no sound. Silence actually did benefit Harry.

He could concentrate. He could focus on the massage, on his friend. He could make sure that the skin over which he let his fingers graze was only skin and didn’t become a landscape of which he wanted to take a thousand and one pictures. He could let his hands glide downwards without wanting to build a house on the plains of Louis’ body, without wanting to settle down there with a few cats.

Louis was warm from the earlier massage and his muscles were properly loosened already. Harry didn’t want to undo the effects of the professional’s work so he simply drew broad circles, adding little but still some pressure. He mostly kept to Louis' spine, trying not to head too far left or right, trying not to tickle Louis unintentionally – he’d leave that option open for later.

Louis was silent throughout all of it. Harry said nothing either. He didn’t know if he should ask if what he was doing was okay or if it was entirely unpleasant. Harry should have asked these things when he had shagged Louis. He didn’t then though and all he did now was breathe loudly.

Oil covered his whole hands by the time he had reached Louis’ lower back. It seemed to have seeped into his pores. His own back had him hunched over Louis crookedly and he was about to end this little adventure by attacking Louis’ sides in an attempt to slice the moist air with laughter when his mate budged slightly.

The towel that was doing an alright job of adorning Louis’ bottom slipped off to reveal what was underneath. Louis tensed.

And Harry was on edge. He was on the edge of discovering what it really meant to be cheeky.

He slid his palms down onto Louis’ buttocks like a smooth criminal, like he just got his hands on a pirate’s treasure. He squeezed once before moving on to Louis’ legs and travelling up again.

Louis clenched his fists and Harry was smiling. He massaged Louis’ arse with the passion of his loins, even bringing a finger through Louis’ crack but not sticking it in.

He didn’t know the limits of this big adventure but when he rubbed Louis’ behind more strongly, Louis spread his legs apart a bit. Harry stilled, then tapped Louis’ perfectly wobbly flesh like a drum. Satisfaction coursed through his system – he was the one who had power and control.

“Good?” Harry’s voice sounded absolutely amiable but Louis didn’t reply.

~

That night Harry snuck out of his room with a blanket and slept on a couch in the reception. He didn’t particularly fear Louis’ revenge - probably would be something like him dancing nakedly. But Harry was quite concerned with what _he_ would do in return.

He woke up early – remainders of his dreaming drifted away as the sun rose. Something about Louis talking to Niall, something about Niall knowing too much bothered Harry. He didn’t even know how Niall knew about their affair. Either Louis had told him and had lied to Harry or Niall had seen them at that party.

Harry didn’t know why Niall would lie to him though. He opened his eyes and stored his nightly worries to the back of his mind again.

~

He had escaped everyone else.

The pool was phenomenal. The temperature of the water was amazing. It almost burned him when he got in but it soothed his aching back instantly.

Harry just wanted to float. He was a cloud that would float in front of the sun and would shield the world from its harmful rays. He was completely relaxed, floating on the surface of this liquid perfection.

Suddenly his head was underwater.

He struggled to get his feet on the tiles below him again as he swallowed unnatural amounts of chlorine water. When his head touched air again, he swung it widely, ridding it off its wetness. He combed through his fringe with his thumb and glared at Louis.

“Oops.” Louis grinned and splashed water in Harry’s direction. Harry could never catch a break – being bombarded with a hundred question at breakfast wasn’t enough. _Why didn’t he sleep in his own room? Where did he sleep? Did he sleep with someone? Did he fuck a waiter?_

“You could at least say _hi_.” Louis continued to splash water at Harry.

“Why aren’t you ...“ Harry didn’t know what he was trying to ask. Why wasn’t Louis fucking Eleanor right now? He shook his head – he didn’t know himself anymore. Harry Styles wasn’t like this. Harry Styles didn’t act like Louis Tomlinson.

“Can’t. Want to rest my voice. It’s so hoarse from having a cock down my throat all night long.” Harry didn’t know if he was mad or aroused by Louis finding him. Maybe he was mad at being aroused. Maybe Louis should wear a full body suit for swimming.

Louis stared at Harry like crazy had found a new home. “You’re joking.”

“Aren’t we all?” Harry began to breaststroke to the other side of the pool. Louis passed him, cutting into his path. Harry halted right in front of him – the pool hadn’t got any deeper here. They both stood easily with the water coming up to their chests. 

“Nobody’s forcing you to force yourself on me.”

“What?” Harry was stunned out of words – he wanted to but he felt no guilt about what had happened yesterday. Louis turned and swam away.

Harry followed Louis, catching up at the ladder on which Louis was climbing up. He grabbed onto Louis’ trunks, pulling him back into the water and submerging him by dunking his head.

Louis fought back – kicked and grabbed Harry’s foot, successfully making him tumble forward and below the surface as well.

They moved away from each other in preparation for their next round, gasping to regain their breath. Harry lunged forward first, not wanting to let Louis consider his next step and was able to secure one of Louis’ wrists in his grip. His momentum made them stumble back and Louis hit the edge of the pool.

“Nobody’s forcing you to force yourself on me.”

This time it was definitely not an accusation and it didn’t exactly feel wrong but it definitely wasn’t right either. It was just bad. And there was something about bad that was so good.

There was something incredibly good about feeling worse and worse. He was disgusted with himself, was making himself sick but he still liked it.

It was like rolling around in the mud – it made him feel free but dirty. It was like eating horse or rabbit, like being a savage.

It was like everything he ever wanted, just more and better and harder and faster.

~

He heard a door fall shut. Harry might have even heard footsteps and a shriek.

He didn’t care though as he tried to hit Louis’ prostate continuously. The pool's water splashed about them in big waves.

~


	12. Round 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The lights were out and Louis had made so many mistakes in his life. He couldn’t quench the dread rising like bile in his throat._

Louis was mad.

He was the personification of madness, of anger and frustration.

The British press weren’t a good people. They weren’t kind and did not forgive someone for being who they were or weren't.

Louis imagined them – the old and young lads and ladies, sitting, laughing as they wrote about the lives of those they could ruin. Their job was to ruin the ones that were untouchable for the normal citizen.

It wasn’t just the English or other Anglos though. The French showed the breasts of the Duchess of Cambridge. The Spanish thought they were the best at football and the Germans weren’t even worth mentioning. The media was ruled by ignorant idiots.

He couldn’t, shouldn’t blame the tabloids for doing what they were ordered to write, couldn’t get worked up about it and he wouldn’t if it was his job to be emotionless and cold-hearted. If it were, he would sit, laugh as he told his friends at _The Sun_ or _The Mirror_ or _The Mail_ all about how Harry Styles, their favourite womanizer was a hot homosexual and how that fine, fit specimen of a male liked to shag the straightness out of Louis Tomlinson. Probably out of others too – Louis wouldn’t refrain from inventing a few names just to prove his point.

Louis wasn’t emotionless and cold-hearted though – he was boiling with rage, seething with fury and most of all he was devastated.

He didn’t remember the last time he had felt so defeated and unoptimistic or if it was natural to feel this weak. There was no bright future ahead of him. Not if he was up against his own label.

They had tasked every trashy media outlet with releasing the story of Louis and his significant other spending the weekend together. There even was an interview with Gage online. He spoke of how lovely it’d been with Louis, how wonderful their coupledom was. Gage blushed and all that.

There was no way out of this. Louis would forever be marked as something he wasn’t, as something he didn’t want to be. He knew he had to talk to his girlfriend and tell her he loved her but he ended up driving to Harry’s instead.

He walked into Harry’s apartment instead of his girlfriend’s arms and he really shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have ever got himself into this kind of situation.

The lights were out and Louis had made so many mistakes in his life. He couldn’t quench the dread rising like bile in his throat.

He turned the TV on and watched _90210_ \- El _adored_ that series. She had handed her DVDs to Louis, saying he had to see them all. He had to do it as her boyfriend, had to make small sacrifices for the greater good. Louis had groaned and driven to Harry’s, forcing his mate to watch it with him.

When Harry had asked why he had to endure the stupid dialogues of the rich American teenagers with their ridiculous white people problems, Louis had lied and said that Harry had to make small sacrifices for the greater good.

Louis adored _90210_ and Eleanor didn’t even know that about him. He couldn’t let her know that. He couldn’t have her think that he liked girly TV.

Someone cheated on someone else under the palms trees in Beverly Hills. They seemed rather exuberant about it, about their betrayal. Louis wanted to feel ebullient as well. He just wanted to feel better.

And Harry wasn’t even home. Why wasn’t he, where was he, who was more important than Louis - the aggravation of being who he was or wasn’t weighed down on Louis and an idea came to him like a slithering snake.

Louis never understood what showcasing radical, destructive behaviour meant. His teachers told him that by skipping school and drawing tits on his tests instead of answering them correctly as they knew he could, by behaving like that he was trying to destroy himself. Louis thought those were just big words by people who wanted to make him feel little.

He found the box where he had stored it.

It shook in his hands and almost fell as he carried it to the couch. He undressed quickly and frantically searched for lubrication in Harry’s flat. He had to act fast, faster. His brains shouldn’t get the chance of catching up to him.

He shoved any misgivings to the darkest place of his mind and shoved the vibrator in bit by bit.

Laughter rolled out of him when he lay there on Harry’s couch with a dildo up his arse – they had had the best times here. Harry had brought him breakfast, had won against him in some video game that wasn’t as good as the advertisement they had watched together. They’d looked at tattoo designs online and told each other of the scars they got from crashing with their bicycles as kids.

And now Louis was willing to burn all of that to the ground just because he thought it might be funny to see Harry’s face drop, to see Harry cringe in sexual need at the sight of Louis masturbating like a needy whore.

Louis couldn’t actually expect Harry to be entranced by Louis’ pathetic writing, couldn’t really expect Harry to be fixated by Louis reaching around, down himself and pulling the vibrator out – not all the way, just the tip.

“Fuck.” He thrust the dildo back in and screamed - it did feel incredible. It did make him forget that he was making a huge mistake.

He breathed through his nose slowly – in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and finally switched the orange sex toy on. The description read that the vibration would be life-altering – Louis couldn’t disagree. His right hand was deeply occupied with jerking himself off and somehow an important detail slipped Louis’ mind.

It slipped Louis’ mind that even though he didn’t want Harry to see him like this anymore, Harry could still just waltz into his own home at any moment.

A door opened and a wave of heat flooded Louis’ system. He was burning up, was on the verge of coming with Harry standing there, looking at him.

It didn’t matter that Harry’s face was twisted into a grimace of disdain instead of pleasure – Louis was still being watched by that pair of dark green eyes, was still at the mercy of the beholder of those glorious eyes.

And Louis gasped when Harry turned around and left again, when Harry didn’t jump him, didn’t fuck him.

He was rejected by his voyeur, was abandoned by his best mate to succumb to the lonely quiet that was disrupted by the increasingly disturbing sound of the vibrator.

~

Zayn’s apartment, teatime.

“Harry.” Zayn lay back, sinking into a beanbag and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

This was his chance, his moment. He could speak now or forever remain silent. He could spill it all or not. Harry had never told anyone. Harry couldn’t just say the words that would change a nation. Harry couldn’t.

“I’ll listen.” It didn’t matter whether Zayn listened or not. Harry couldn’t. He couldn’t have Louis. Zayn had Perrie. Zayn had someone. Zayn didn’t understand.

“Styles…”

“No. No. You don’t – No.” Harry clutched his face in his hands. He wouldn’t cry.

“We can trade…” Zayn cleared his throat. “We can trade secrets. To see who’s got the bigger one.”

Harry definitely did.

Zayn didn’t urge him any further than that but the silence pushed and pulled at Harry. It was severely uncomfortable.

“Where should I even start? I mean, I just –“ Zayn shrugged.

“I don’t even want this. I ... He’s just got something – charm, lots of charm. And I’m – I love him unconditionally.” Zayn nodded.

“It was just a crush and then it was an obsession. I can’t even really notice all the bad things he does. I just ignore it all because he’s so perfect to me, you know?” Zayn shrugged.

“And ... the more he – the more he acts like a prick and throws himself at me, the more I want him.” Zayn nodded.

“And I don’t know if it’ll be enough for me... even if I take everything from him, I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

~

Louis felt so humiliated by his incompetency to be normal, by his inability to undermine his libido. He wanked on the verge of tears.

~

Harry eventually told Zayn everything. He told Zayn about Louis.

Zayn didn’t judge - neither Harry nor Louis. Zayn just listened and Harry just emptied himself from the burdens of his soul. At first it felt awful, rightfully terrible to have someone know of his dirty secrets but the more gushed out of Harry, the less confusing it all seemed. In the end Harry was just left with a broken heart that needed some serious mending.

“Can I ask something.” Zayn said after a long pause.

“Go ahead.” Harry was lying on his stomach on the floor.

“Why are you constantly running away from him?”

Harry opened his eyes and craned his neck in an effort to look up at Zayn. “You think he’s selfish and self-centred but what about you?”

Zayn totally made a valid point – Louis trampled all over Harry whenever he got the chance but Harry didn’t question Louis about his reasons for pushing a dildo up his rear. Maybe Harry should have pulled the thing out and sat down with Louis over some biscuits to just talk about their feelings and shit.

“He isn’t the one who’s _gay_  - I mean, who’s honest about his preference. You should be there for him. He’s the one who’s not gay but _out_. Have you read the shit in the papers?”

Harry had searched for Louis everywhere today. He had wanted to make sure his friend was alright and hindsight is easier than foresight.

“And yet, he’s still all over you.” Zayn patted Harry's head and messed up his messy hairdo. “Shouldn’t that be an indication of something?”

No, it shouldn’t.

~

That night, Harry woke up from a nightmare. He couldn’t remember any of it but he had the overwhelming sense that he was absolutely done with Louis.

~


	13. Round 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Larry Stylinson is real?!_

Louis was brought to a safe location without even knowing the full story.

The sky was grey and bits and pieces of information leaked into his brain but they were so nonsensical. He tried to take a step back and look at the bigger picture but the dots wouldn’t connect, the pieces wouldn’t fit.

Yesterday Louis was the prime example of a perfect gay boyfriend and today he was on the entirely opposite end of the spectrum. Today the truth was revealed by none other than El.

Headlines, articles mashed, jumbled together in his mind.

 _Louis from 1D cheats on girlfriend with Harry Styles from 1D! Sorry ladies, the boys like boys! The lads are queerer than Elton! Eleanor, ex-girlfriend of the lying bastard spills it all. She has had it with boybanders and so should we. We’re sorry too but Syco paid us plenty. Gage was a ruse to distract from the real deal – Harry Styles, notorious womanizer. Maybe he never loved any of his femmes fatales because he swings for the other team and the Tommo is his catcher. But when did Harry go gay for Tomlinson? Does Styles only like him because he’s the oldest? Larry Stylinson_ is _real?!_

“She is going to ruin us.” Louis flinched and spun around. It was Niall and he didn’t look happy.

“She might have already ruined us completely.” There was such an extreme amount of animosity emitting from his bandmate that Louis wasn’t sure it wasn’t a demon standing there.

“How could you let her see – how could you bend over for a bloke?!” Niall punched a desk. “You’re such a disgusting -” Niall kicked the desk several times.

Louis felt his heart clench brutally, frantically.

“Homo.” Niall spit on the floor.

Louis blinked furiously as tears started dropping from his eyes. He wiped them away but more dripped down his cheeks. He lost control of his breathing as his throat tightened. The confusion over his own reaction was suddenly overshadowed, overpowered by an agonizing sense of pain, grief in his chest.

He began sobbing more strongly and his mind filled with dizzying clouds of despair. He clawed at his shirt, trying to get to his heart, trying to rip out the cause of this attack. His knees gave out under him and he screamed as his bawling intensified, as he suffered a breakdown.

And then it was Louis’ first day of secondary school again.

His mother helped him put his jacket on and surprised him with one of his sisters’ lunch boxes. There was cake inside – chocolate cake. He waved goodbye as he walked towards the start of his real education with a light skip in his step.

He felt proud to finally leave the primary school days behind him, felt really happy. He could share the cake with his classmates and quickly make friends. His smile grew brighter and green trousers moved with his agile jumps, revealing his ankles.

The weather wasn’t chilly and yet, not many people chose to come outside that day. Louis saw a couple of children up ahead, right before the zebra crossing to his new school. They were passing a ball back and forth but one of them kicked it too far and it flew over a fence. Their voices rang loudly as they bickered and Louis skipped along cheerfully, dreaming of the mouth-watering taste of chocolate.

A gust blew through his hair, whipping it in all directions.

“Hey, poof.”

Louis turned and saw the boys who’d lost their ball approaching. He was about to return the odd greeting that he didn’t understand when the wind turned and coldly brushed against his face. It almost cut his skin open.

They were Louis‘ age, not older but they were stronger and bigger. They had dark, mean eyes and sharp, yellow teeth.

Louis looked around at each of them as they circled him. Their faces weren’t memorable but their menace was.

“Such a pretty little boy.”

“Did your Mama dress you?”

“What’s in there?”

Someone poked his backpack and another poked his lunch box.

“Is that Sailor Moon?”

Laughter.

“He’s got a Sailor Moon lunch box!”

“And the Power Rangers are on his bag.”

“I bet he likes the pink one best.”

Laughter.

“I like the red one.” Louis shouted as one of the kids tried to pull his school bag from his back. The boys went silent. Louis turned and walked away, having defeated the bad guys.

Good always wins – that’s what his fictional heroes had taught him. Red Ranger or Pink Ranger or Sailor Moon or Sailor Mercury – all of them fought for good, for the safety of the world and won.

Then he was pushed and fell hard on the pavement. His forehead scratched along the asphalt and hands grabbed at him. He was defenceless against the brute force of these boys.

“His bum looks so twinky.”

“Stan, it’s cake in the box.”

“Fruity gay cake, yeah.”

“Nah, chocolate. Looks like shit.”

He was rolled over and something soft and mushy hit his face.

Laughter.

Louis squeezed one eye open and the world wasn’t safe at all. It was really dirty.

“Homo.”

Punch.

Kick. Punch, kick, kick. Punch, punch. Punch.

Homo.

The bruises echoed violently throughout his body.

Homo.

His nose was full of chocolate and blood.

Homo.

Louis grabbed his knees, curling up into a ball. He became a ball, their ball.

“Even now, he still looks like he wants to eat dick.”

“We should beat him till he’s straight again.”

“Let’s knock the cock-sucking out of him.”

More punches and kicks.

“Homo.”

They spit on his face and it looked like tears.

~

“Homo.”

Harry stormed towards Niall.

He swung his right arm back as far as it’d go and aimed for that vile face of his bandmate. His fist connected with Niall’s temple and Harry felt his knuckles touch more than just skin. The bones in his hand grew numb, warning him of an injury but he had no interest in controlling himself.

“My fucking eye, you fucking shit stabber!”

Harry aimed for Niall’s stomach but slammed it into Niall’s side instead, probably hitting a kidney. Niall doubled over, holding a palm into his left eye socket.

He grabbed for Niall’s collar, pulling him into a standing position again and throwing him against a wall with all his might. Niall fell to the floor with a thud that echoed in Harry’s skull over and over again.

The Irish’s body went limp and his limbs rested at awkward angles – there was a line of blood on his face, seeping into his mouth. Harry leaned over him and struck him over and over again. It was good to cause Niall suffering, to cause the cause of Louis’ suffering to suffer.

Everything was brightly clear to him now - Niall had seen them first and Eleanor had seen them second. Niall was a homophobic twat and El was a jealous girlfriend that acted on her emotions after finding out her boyfriend slept with his best mate, that wanted to burn down the whole village just because two people couldn’t keep it in their pants.

And Harry was worse than that because just an hour ago he had still wanted to turn his back on Louis forever and never look back. He had wished that he had never met Louis, that destiny had never brought them together, so close.

He was absolutely sure that today was the day he would stop loving Louis. He really wanted it to be and then men stormed into Zayn’s flat and dragged him to a black van. They searched for Zayn and Liam in all of London but gave up on them and brought Harry to the home of one of the bodyguards.

His mobile had told him everything he needed to know on the drive but he was dazed and confused, not really realizing what was happening.

“Nice job.” Someone said to him in an ambiguously hostile tone as they left him to himself on the second floor. He walked down a corridor and at its end a door was slightly ajar - only when he pushed it open and saw Louis did it hit him.

He hit Niall one last time before he stumbled his way to Louis - he was kneeling with his hands holding the back of his head and his forehead pressed to the floor. Harry gripped his own hair in desperation.

Lou? Love?

Harry lifted Louis up, scooped him up in his arms - he wasn’t qualified to deal with a meltdown of this proportion. He had to get help, had to make it okay, had to save the lost but he almost dropped Louis when he turned his head and looked at Harry.

Tears were streaming down Louis’ face and his eyes were blank. Lifeless.

Harry choked and ran.

Louis repeated, mumbled one word into Harry’s neck over and over again.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

~


	14. Round 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m so sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.”  
>  Harry unclenched his fists and swiped his thumb over his lips in that special Harry-esque manner._

“I’m ...”

Harry touched the bandages on his hand.

“I’m ...”

He looked up at the bed.

“I’m unable to come up with anything to say to you.” Niall said finally. He might have been on the verge of tears but Harry wasn’t sure.

Silence reigned supreme for a few minutes.

“It’s wonderful what a good, old-fashioned beating can do for you.” Niall continued finally. There was a slight humour in his words.

“You don’t need to talk. We can figure this out later.” Harry didn’t expect to have an animal within him. Nobody expected him to have a vicious animal inside of him but humans were violent beings. They were born with barbarity pumping in their veins – Harry just hadn't thought he was like that.

His dark side had suddenly come to the surface. It had taken over and had made him raise his soul in brutality. He just couldn’t believe that he was that kind of person. Nobody would believe that he was capable of such villainy.

“Yeah.” Niall looked like a war hero, looked like a victim. It wasn’t possible to not feel pity for him, to not feel disgust towards Harry.

“My eye-patch is cool though.” Niall stated. He grinned for a brief moment before dropping his smile like it was a snake and not a stick that could kill it.

Harry got up, walked to the door – he had to check on Louis.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Niall panicked. He shifted in his bed feverishly and winced with every movement. “I’m so-“

“Not now.” Harry felt like puking again. He had vomited twice already and the bile just wouldn’t stop rising. “It’s fine for now.”

Niall looked terrified - Harry put a hand over his mouth and turned away.

“I...” Harry pressed his eyes together and wanted to tune out Niall’s voice. It was sickening. “I had reasons for my behaviour.”

Harry breathed deeply and calmed, controlled his body again. Guilt burned and cut and scarred his skin.

“I mean, it's not like I did it because I’m in love with you.” Harry looked back over his shoulder – Niall’s face was torn apart into fragments of twisted emotions.

There was a knock and the door opened, revealing a medic - behind him were two worried boys. Harry stormed toward them, needing to get some distance between himself and his casualty.

“Where were you?” It wasn’t a friendly tone.

“Sorry, mate. Danielle wants to get back together again and I needed Zayn to -“ Liam started but halted upon seeing Niall’s bruised state. “Fuck.”

Zayn’s gaze searched Harry’s eyes and he needed to get away - Zayn knew too much, didn’t know enough.

Liam whispered something into Zayn’s ear and Harry felt as unstable as a serial killer in a morgue. He spun around and there was the ghost of a man he had murdered.

Louis was smiling oddly – it looked as if he had accidentally eaten the biscuits that weren’t meant for him or had overwatered the cacti or had killed a cat.

“I’m leaving.” His voice was a bit scratchy.

“Should you really?” Liam frowned and Harry stroked through his hair.

“I’m fine. Don’t want to stay. Doctor’s just bothersome.” Louis didn’t say more and Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from asking for details. 

“You coming, Styles?” He had wanted to ditch Louis, had promised himself to turn his back on Louis but it wasn’t his fault that things had become like this. It wasn’t fair that he had to be so guilt-ridden, that he was being punished for getting sick of Louis, for feeling too hopeless.

“Yeah.”

~

“Is your hand alright?”

“Sprained.”

“Hm.” Louis grunted. He had had a bit of a meltdown. So what – he was still a pop star. One Direction was in flames but the fire brigade was just a call away.

Harry drove the van of one of their bodyguards one-handily - his right hand was hanging out of the window, tapping the outside of the car. Louis fumbled around with the handle of his door.

“Is there a Champions League match tonight?”

“Don’t think so.” Harry ignored a red light.

“Wanna watch a movie? You said you wanted to see that Perfect Pitch one?”

“Not in the mood.”

“What would you like to do then?” Louis sighed - Harry glanced over at him before hopefully focusing on the road again. Louis wouldn’t be able to drive a vehicle right now. He wouldn’t even be able to steer a bike. It felt like his hands were shaking even though they weren’t, like his insides were trembling.

“Lou-“

“You want to have sex with me?”

Harry hit the brakes.

They were in a small side street and not the Piccadilly Circus but either way, it didn’t feel like luck was on Louis’ side. He was gripping his seatbelt and had pressed his eyes shut.

Harry got out, slamming the door and Louis counted the drops of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He squeezed one eye open and Harry hadn’t left - his forehead and hands were flat on the engine bonnet.

Louis slowly unfastened his seat belt and slowly stepped out of the car. He slowly walked to the front and Harry straightened his spine, craning his head up to stare at the sky above.

“I’m so sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.” Harry spoke quickly, shaking his head, readjusting his hair before facing Louis.

“Something terrible happened to you and you don’t share anything with me. You’re so strong but don’t you think you’re just trying to avoid facing your demons? I can’t force you to tell me but I want to know. I want to know everything. I want everything, yes. I want the impossible.”

Harry met Louis’ eyes. Fuck, was what Louis thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck.

“I fancy you.” Harry’s eyes moved left and right, up and down before settling on Louis’ again. “When we met... I fell for you.”

Harry loved Louis.

“I love you. It’s always been you. You’re my hope, my destiny.”

Harry really loved Louis.

“You’re so beautiful and you don't even fucking know. I really love you.” Harry unclenched his fists and swiped his thumb over his lips in that special Harry-esque manner. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m not good at this.”

Wrong.

Louis ran like a fool.

Harry was absolutely perfect.

~

His feet and the tube carried him to Zayn’s place. He even signed a girl's belly plus posed for a dozen pictures on his way there.

Zayn seemed to be home again, already – Louis heard loud music from somewhere in the flat.

He should feel happy. Louis should feel happy, ecstatic about being loved despite acting like himself. He had got with El because he had pretended to be someone he wasn’t. He had thought that was the only way to gain someone’s real love.

Louis went to the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face. His lashes stuck together and the mirror showed his reflection giving him a look full of desperate disappointment.

He felt like shit. He felt lots of things but mostly he felt like piss. Louis was basically a toilet - no matter how much one flushed, it’d never be clean, amiable.

Louis dried his hands on a green towel and his elbow came in contact with a can of hairspray. He reacted fast enough and caught it in its fall to the floor. He placed it back on the counter and Harry’s hair was always smooth and silky. Some days he used so much gel that Louis thought if he’d let his hand glide through, it’d get stuck but it didn't.

He dragged his feet to the living room. Harry had confessed his love to him and Louis had fled – he was such a lovely chap.

It was shock that had made him sprint off. Obviously Louis was shocked – Harry had loved him for forever, for 3 years and it wasn’t like in the movies when the protagonist found out their crush was in love with them all along.

Harry’s love had to be so huge, so enormous, as large as the earth, as big as the sun. Louis wasn’t like the sun though – he didn’t bring light or good to Harry’s world. He made Harry suffer, always acted like a complete wanker, like a total prick.

He heard the music more clearly now – it was hip-hop.

Louis headed towards Zayn’s bedroom. He couldn’t go find Harry now – he didn’t know what to say or do. Zayn might not be in the same position as him but he would listen to Louis’ troubles.

The door was slightly ajar and Louis recognized the rapper now – it was Jay-Z.

He peeked through the opening and Zayn was on his bed.

Liam was on top of him. They were naked. They were shagging.

Zayn moaned.

His instincts wanted him to lunge forward and laugh at them, possibly take pictures and make fun of them. Instead of being honest, genuine, sincere, his instincts wanted him to ask Harry whether he wanted to fuck, wanted him to put a wall, veil of unlikability around himself, wanted him to wear an armour that shielded, protected him from what he really wanted.

Like a shadow, Louis left Zayn’s apartment and decided to heed the doctor’s advice after all. He took a business card out of his pocket and called a therapist who specialized in unlocking and overcoming childhood traumas and signed up for a few agonizing sessions.

~

A week later, a golf course.

Harry got the ball in the hole - he did a dumb little dance and Louis jumped over the railing of the club house.

He landed in the fake grass and somewhere behind him, someone whistled.

One of the guys playing with Harry spotted him approaching the group and he unsubtly alerted Harry of Louis’ presence.

He looked good. Harry looked good with the sun shining down on him, with the breeze playing with his sleeveless, white top. His grey beanie sat sloppily on his head and Louis suddenly realized how long it’d take him to walk the distance with a cool and composed trot.

He had prepared for this for days but now he was the length of football field away from his destination, trying to not trip over his feet.

He sped up a bit only to slow down again – this was so fucking awkward.

Harry pulled at the hem of his wife-beater, fixating his gaze on his shoes. Louis was pretty sure Harry was snickering.

The closer he got, the more serious Harry looked though. Louis bit and licked his lips and he began to hurry, began to sense that this could no longer wait, that Harry wouldn’t forever be right there for him to grab, have.

Louis flung himself at Harry, closing his eyes way too early and blindly searched for something to hold on. He touched fabric and pulled at it, causing Harry’s shirt to entirely rip apart and their bodies to crash against one another.

Harry gasped into Louis’ mouth and dropped his golf club. He put a hand on Louis’ hip and deepened the snog with a light push of his tongue.

Louis had been terribly frightened he’d mess up but hanging on Harry’s lips with a hand in his hair was nice.

Harry put his other hand on Louis’ chest and for an instant Louis thought Harry would listen to the beat of his raging heart or something weird like that.

He pushed Louis away though and Louis couldn’t take it - the rejection hurt so badly already. He blinked his dizziness away and latched himself onto Harry’s mouth again.

Louis let his tongue roll over Harry’s, let their fronts collide in soft rolls, let his crotch roll into Harry's and coaxed Harry into kissing him back. Maybe that could be enough for Harry. Louis hoped it would be, hoped it could mend a heart.

~


	15. Round 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“And what about me?” Harry stared into Louis’ eyes and the war wasn’t won._

It wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t.

~

Louis didn’t even care what his hair looked like. He was frantic. He found his wallet but lost his composure completely. He was sweating so much. It was like he was having sex with stress itself and it wasn’t fun.

His therapist had said he needed fun. He was supposed to surround himself with things he liked and he shouldn’t shove them away. He shouldn’t push away and lash out but embrace. Always embrace. Being nice was nicer. He should search for a positive force in his life and let it in, let it stabilise and root him.

He opened his front door and stepped out into the world - a person paced there, playing the waiting game.

Louis studied Niall’s face – it was still swollen but he looked quite human, quite vulnerable. His eyes seemed glassy, breakable as they searched the ground - he didn’t notice Louis immediately.

When he did, he gasped and put a hand over his heart, reeling as if he’d been attacked by a white shark, as if his whole navy had been killed by a sperm whale.

“Hey.”

Louis didn’t react instantly - he was expecting to be cut by a piece of pure pain. His therapist had told that might happen from time to time now that he was opening up to the notion of dealing with the problems of his past. Sometimes he’d just remember awful stuff and he’d have to handle it.

He didn’t have to do it alone though – that’s what his therapist had said. Louis wasn’t alone. He had a lot of people that supported and cared for him, a lot of people who didn’t even know how horrible he could be and who still adored him. Embrace, embrace.

“I’m off to see Harry.” Louis managed to keep a straight face.

“Oh...” Niall’s shoulders slumped down a bit. “Right.”

Things had changed - roles weren’t exactly reversed but Louis loomed over Niall. He felt bigger than Niall, felt safer than before.

“You ...” Niall couldn’t meet Louis’ eyes.

Louis thought back to his school days,to becoming a proper prick to protect himself from Stan and his friends, to becoming a bully to fit in with his bullies. He wondered what Niall’s reasons were for being who he was. Everyone had reasons but most people didn’t care about uncovering and understanding them.

“Please make him happy.” It sounded like it actually didn’t come from Niall’s mouth even though it clearly did. Louis stared at Niall's eyes and Niall stared at Louis’ chest - what did happiness even mean? Was this about the band or about Harry - what did Niall mean by it?

It occurred to Louis that one day he'd figure Niall out – he set himself the mission to figure out how Niall worked, to get back on track with Niall. He smiled slightly at the prospect of a better tomorrow for One Direction.

“Yeah.” Louis swung his bum on his bike, waved in a subtly cheerful manner and pedalled away, leaving Niall behind in a dust of regret.

~

Harry walked to the exit.

He swiped his fingers through his hair - he was dead exhausted.

It wasn’t like the situation was that bad. It wasn’t like he had to confront the public head on.

His label had told him, confirmed with him today that they would take care of everything, that they’d mask the truth with more lies. Harry had just nodded. He would do anything at this point. He had always done anything – he had signed with them knowing he’d be silenced, aware of never being able to paint with his true colours. He shouldn’t be such a baby about it now. It didn’t matter that he’d have to pretend to be in a relationship with Louis, have to act like he was happy. PR had made him pretend so often with girls already. It made no difference - fake was fake.

Harry’s golfing buddies believed it to be real. They had winked at him but really were embarrassed by the affectionate display, by the show that Louis had given them all – Harry was too. He had fought hard against the persistency of his friend but ultimately managed to get some distance between himself and Louis, managed to send Louis home, managed to not freak out.

And it just wasn’t right. Not on any level. Not anymore. It was wrong and hopeless.

Harry tripped over a cable and someone put a hand on his shoulder. Zayn came out of nowhere, came out of the shadows like a shadow.

“You crying, Styles?”

“Nah.”

“Do what you have to do, right.”

“Yeah.”

“And Lou’s trying, you know.”

Harry didn’t read much into this exchange. Zayn might be on the verge of murdering him and he wouldn’t, couldn’t have guessed. His mind was a complete mess - he had to come up with a way to tell Louis that they had to lie about being together for the good of the people, that the two of them had to magically salvage their group’s image somehow after this whole not gay-gay-more gay scandal.

“Liam’s back with Danielle.” They stood side by side, facing opposite directions. Harry was going down in panic but he had no idea where Zayn was heading.

“It’s good news.”

Zayn dropped his hand from Harry’s shoulder and put it in his pocket.

It hit him like an atomic bomb - others had troubles too. Zayn had problems - Harry was ripped from his egomaniacal little world. Maybe Harry could have been more attentive, maybe he could have helped. He had simply let his friend down. He had been so focused on, so entranced in living and sharing his own story that he had never given Zayn a chance to do the same.

“What’s your secret, Zayn?” The trigger was pulled. Zayn sighed - he expelled all his demons and bared his soul to the devil.

“We shagged this morning before he went out with her and when he came back, we did it again.”

Harry wasn’t gobsmacked by this. He brought Zayn in close, hugging him tightly. It was shocking in a dull, bleak way. It added to the oppressing feeling of finality of Harry’s own handsome heartache.

~

He was already there when Louis arrived. It was drizzling very lightly and the ponds sparkled with dancing rainbows.

The gardens were magnificent – cherry blossoms bloomed on all the trees and Harry was standing under a gleaming, pretty in pink one.

It looked like he had flowers in his hair.

“Fancy seeing you here.” That was Louis’ best, flirtiest opening - he tried to smirk but got flustered by Harry’s gaze, tried to laugh but it got stuck in his throat – his face flushed darkly and Harry couldn’t seal his heart off from the penetrating emotions.

He was just human. He was a nice human being and caught the lemons that life threw at him, made lemon juice and drank it all. He was friendly, outgoing and easygoing but he was not easy.

Louis would take the piss out of him again and Harry wouldn’t even care. He’d look into Louis’ eyes and see whatever he wanted to see in them. He’d let his dreams take over reality and he wouldn’t mind it when Louis made fun of his butterfly tattoo. He’d just listen to the mocking, imagined it being a pleasant recital of love songs.

There was no good in this one-sided travesty. There was no good in holding on, giving himself up for a useless revolution, for a rebellion that yielded no temptable fruit. No good came out of hoping and yet Harry still asked himself why Louis couldn’t just be his. He was such a fool. He would forever be a fucking fool.

He wrenched at the rose-coloured glasses that were stuck to his face and when they came loose, it felt like tiny shards flew into his eyes and tinted the earth in new shades.

Everything that happened between them lay in front of them in the mud. None of it could be negated – time could not be turned back. Harry would if he could. He’d make himself forget it all. He’d never fall in _anything_ with Louis.

A part of him wanted to still pose as the nice guy who embraced the worst, who cut himself in the ocean so that sharks wouldn’t starve but could feed on him.

“Louis.” Harry couldn’t be in love with the bad when goodness was his virtue. “I can’t do this anymore.”

His doubt faded and confidence, conviction rushed through his veins. He got a kick out of it and he wanted to say more, wanted to underline his words with the wrongs that were committed against him but he wasn’t like that. He didn’t have a malicious streak in his blood. He was kind. He’d let Louis go with a smile.

He felt his dimples appear and for a few, brief moments he was blind to what was happening to Louis, to how maenadic emotions swept over Louis’ body in sad tremors – blends of trepidation and sorrow burst inside his brain. Harry couldn’t have had a change of heart. He couldn’t have decided to no longer want Louis. He couldn’t now that Louis was going for it.

But then Harry walked towards him, past him and patted him on the back. Like an animal that wasn’t adopted from the shelter, like it was too late for him, like it was over.

“Bye.” That was the finishing blow - the impact tore Louis to pieces, burned him to ashes. Harry sounded so gleeful, sounded so satisfied.

It took a while for Louis to notice that Harry had left him. It took even longer for him to realize that he was too numb and hollow to cry.

“Fuck.”

~

The doors closed behind them and the London Eye took off.

It was an English day with English weather. Clouds dressed in cold grey and kids dressed in cool black. Music flitted through the air as was befitting of spring and birds flew in choreographed swarms back up North. The people were ready for a new beginning and the paps were positioned too.

Harry pressed his forehead against the glass and stared right into a lens of one camera. The guy took shots of him without pause – he just didn’t want to miss a thing.

Louis huffed and let go of the railing. He didn’t need any life support – he’d survive just fine.

“Well?” The Ferris wheel moved quicker than expected. Harry turned to face Louis and it was weird. So fucking awkward - Louis rolled his eyes and shrugged it off. “What are ya waiting for?”

Harry glanced at the floor but no hole appeared for him to jump through. He took a step forward, testing the metal but it didn’t give in.

The public hadn’t found out about Niall and his issues. Everyone was too distracted by the not-heterosexual lovebirds. Everyone was interested in them, wanted to know every little detail about them. Tomorrow they had their first interview and it was on the telly, broadcast in too many countries across the globe. They’d have to explain everything then and everyone would watch them.

He hadn’t learned his lines yet. He hadn’t even read them. He couldn’t stand the thought of it. He couldn’t stand here with Louis.

“Will you kiss me already!” With exasperation and frustration, Louis reached for Harry’s shirt but it slipped through his fingers.

“Wait. I need to think.” Harry put his hands up in a defensive stance.

“What’s there to think about!”

“I don’t know... just...” Harry was obligated to snog Louis for the paparazzi. He was basically threatened into doing it. He needed space away from Louis but nobody was letting him have it. They were thrusting him back into Louis’ midst and obviously, Louis was wearing skinny, black jeans.

“We’ve done it before. It’s not that difficult.”

“Just wait and give me a moment.”

“You’re impossible.” Louis shook his head and moved forward again.

“Woah!” Harry evaded Louis’ grasp by twirling out of the way and rushing to the other side of the transparent gondola.

“What’s got so difficult for you all of a sudden? _You_ rejected me.”

“I...” Louis had a point but Harry had points too. He had lots and lots of points and they all slipped his mind when Louis’ neckline slipped down lower, revealed more.

“I mean, what do you want from me? I’m having a really hard time but you’re off with Grimmy, having good fun partying. Do you have any idea how tough it’s been for me -”

“And what about me?” Harry stared into Louis’ eyes and the war wasn’t won.

“What about _you_ , Styles?!” Louis was seething with subdued fury, was glaring at Harry disdainfully because he didn’t get that there was nothing worse than loving someone, one didn’t like anymore.

They reached the top and Harry thought he saw the sun. He hurled himself into action. They _had_ to kiss and they would – if that meant that he’d have to endure some suffering, then so fucking be it.

It was supposed to be a simple peck but it ended up being more complicated. Harry smashed his lips mouth over Louis’ and their chests crashed together. The fragile tension connecting them broke, exploded and wounded both beyond the possibility or necessity of healing.

The kiss was of the rough kind, of the desperate kind - no apologies, no inhibitions. Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s hips and Harry lifted him up, pressed him up against the glass. It wasn’t angry lust – it was plain pathetic.

Louis hung on Harry’s lips, squirmed when Harry’s hand snuck under his top and stroked up his abdomen. He felt miserable when his misery faded through Harry's overwhelming touch.

One quarter of the full circle left - Harry grunted, Louis moaned and their mouths were just a nifty breath apart.

“You’re so cruel.” Louis panted like he was trying to persuade Harry to keep working on him and Harry grunted like he agreed with the concept.

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Harry licked, bit Louis’ neck and slid a hand behind Louis, getting himself a nice grope of his ass.

“What did I ever do?” Louis tugged at Harry’s shirt, rolling it upwards and swiping his tongue across Harry's lips. 

“You seduced me with your -.” Harry squeezed Louis’ bottom tightly and laughed into Louis’ hair when Louis tickled his sides. “And now you’re doing it again.”

“Sorry.” Louis kissed Harry’s jaw but he wasn’t sorry and never would be. He loved Harry back and forth. "I lo-"

“It’s okay.” They hit the ground but no one disturbed their making out, making up, making their story end differently and so Harry and Louis went for another ballsy ride.

~

Elsewhere.

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“No one could have guessed that Niall had a thing for Harry.”

“Believe what you will but I saw it coming.”

“You’re _insane_.”

“And you like that about me.”

Liam’ smile fell – Zayn was absolutely right but he shouldn’t be.

“When will this end?”

“What?” Zayn asked.

“Us,” Liam answered, “Being fuckbuddies.”

Zayn stopped kissing Liam’s collarbone. “Hm?”

“You heard me.”

“We’re fuck buddies?” Zayn’ facial features hardened - he couldn’t let something show.

“What are we then?” Liam noticed something any or every way and he swallowed hard.

“Buddies ... that fuck?” Zayn forced a smirk.

“So when will we stop?” Liam sometimes thought of kissing Zayn on the street, in the park, at sea. He thought of many things, sometimes. He wondered about the meaning of life and the meaning of love. He wondered if Danielle would react as badly as Eleanor had, if all girls were the same. He thought about Zayn being different.

Zayn pressed his forehead against Liam’s chest. Harry and Louis were different - they were unstoppable together. They loved each other against all odds and Zayn and Liam were different – they had no love for one another. They were mates with no eternal struggle against their star-crossed fates, no happily ever after.

“Zayn. When?” Liam asked more timidly, more urgently, more like he couldn’t take this anymore.

 _Never ever_. Zayn pushed himself up, lifted himself up, hovered above Liam’s body. He glanced down, eyed Liam’s mouth.

“Why can’t I ... quit you.” Liam shifted and Zayn’s legs around him were a prison, were a fortress of freedom. Lying with Zayn, embracing him, holding the hand of someone that wasn’t more than a friend – it meant something. It had to mean more than beautiful torment.

 _It’s obviously not love_. Liam kissed Zayn – he leaned up and it was just the softest touching of lips, just the faintest hint of yet unsaid musings, just the lightest hit to their hearts.

"'Cause..." Zayn smiled into the kiss. “You want to have sex with me.”

~

**The end.**

**Author's Note:**

> readingallaboutit.tumblr.com


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